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Majors  and  Minors: 


:  :  :  POEMS  :  :  : 


BY 


PAUL  LAWRENCE  DUNBAR. 


Hadley  &  Hadley,  Printers  and  Binders, 
Toledo,  Ohio. 


As  my  first  faint  pipings  were  inscribed  to  her,  I  deem 

it  fitting,  as  a  further  recognition  of  my  love 

and    obligation,    that    I    should 

also  dedicate  these  later 

songs    to 

.  MY  MOTHER, 


Copyrighted,  J895. 


Majors 

:  :  :  :  and  :  :  :  : 

Minors* 


Majors  and  Minors. 


3one. 

PART  I. 

Ah,  yes,  'tis  sweet  to  still  remember, 
Though  'twere  less  painful  to  forget ; 

For  while  my  heart  glows  like  an  ember, 
Mine  eyes  with  sorrow's  drops  are  wet, 
And  oh,  my  heart  is  aching  yet. 

It  is  a  law  of  mortal  pain, 

That  old  wounds,  long  accounted  well, 
Beneath  the  memory's  potent  spell, 

Will  wake  to  life  and  bleed  again. 

So  'tis  with  me  ;  it  might  be  better, 
If  I  should  turn  to  look  behind, — 

If  I  could  curb  my  heart,  and  fetter 
From  reminiscent  gaze  my  mind, 
Or  let  my  soul  go  blind — go  blind  ! 

But  would  I  do  it  if  I  could, 

Nay  !     Ease  at  such  a  price  were  spurned, 
For,  since  my  love  was  once  returned, 

All  that  I  suffer  seemeth  good. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

I  know,  I  know  it  is  the  fashion, 

When  love  has  left  some  heart  distressed, 

To  weight  the  air  with  wordful  passion  : 
But  I  am  glad  that  in  my  breast 
I  ever  held  so  dear  a  guest. 

Love  does  not  come  at  every  nod, 
Or  every  voice  that  calleth  "  hasten," 
He  seeketh  out  some  heart  to  chasten, 

And  whips  it,  wailing  up  to  God  ! 

Love  is  no  random  road  wayfarer 

Who  where  he  may  must  sip  his  glass. 

Love  is  the  King,  the  Purple-wearer, 
Whose  guard  recks  not  of  tree  or  grass 
To  blaze  the  way  that  he  may  pass. 

What  if  my  heart  be  in  the  blast 
That  heralds  his  triumphant  way  ; 
Shall  I  repine,  shall  I  not  say  : 

"  Rejoice,  my  heart,  the  King  has  passed  !" 

In  life,  each  heart  holds  some  sad  story — 

The  saddest  ones  are  never  told. 
I  too,  have  dreamed  of  fame  and  glory 

And  viewed  the  future  bright  with  gold; 

But  that  is  as  a  tale  long  told. 
Mine  eyes  have  lost  their  youthful  flash, 

My  cunning  hand  has  lost  its  art ; 

I  am  not  old,  but  in  my  heart, 
The  ember  lies  beneath  the  ash. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

I  loved  !     Why  not  ?     My  heart  was  youthful, 
My  mind  was  filled  with  healthy  thought. 

He  doubts  not  whose  own  self  is  truthful, 
Doubt  by  dishonesty  is  taught ; 
So  loved  I  boldly,  fearing  naught. 

I  did  not  walk  this  lowly  earth ; 
Mine  was  a  newer,  higher  sphere 
Where  youth  was  long  and  life  was  dear, 

And  all  save  love  was  little  worth. 

Her  likeness !     Would  that  I  might  limn  it 
As  Love  did  with  enduring  art ; 

Nor  dust  of  days,  nor  death  may  dim  it, 
Where  it  lies  graven  on  my  heart, 
Of  this  sad  fabric  of  my  life  a  part. 

I  would  that  I  might  paint  her  now 
As  I  beheld  her  in  that  day, 
Ere  her  first  bloom  had  passed  away. 

And  left  the  lines  upon  her  brow. 

A  face  serene  that  beaming  brightly, 
Disarmed  the  hot  sun's  glances  bold. 

A  foot  that  kissed  the  ground  so  lightly, 
He  frowned  in  wrath  and  deemed  her  cold, 
But  loved  her  still  though  he  was  old. 

A  form  where  every  maiden  grace 

Bloomed  to  perfection's  richest  now'r — , 
The  statued  pose  of  conscious  pow'r, 

Like  lithe-limbed  Dian's  of  the  chase. 


10  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Beneath  a  brow  too  fair  for  frowning, 
Like  moon-lit  deeps  that  glass  the  skies 

Till  all  the  hosts  above  seem  drowning, 
Looked  forth  her  steadfast  hazel  eyes, 
With  gaze  serene  and  purely  wise. 

And  over  all,  her  tresses  rare, 

Which,  when  with  his  desire  grown  weak, 
The  Night  bent  down  to  kiss  her  cheek, 

Entrapped  and  held  him  captive  there. 

This  was  lone  :  a  spirit  finer 

Ne'er  burned  to  ash  its  house  of  clay ; 

A  soul  instinct  with  fire  diviner 
Ne'er  fled  athwart  the  tace  of  day, 
And  tempted  Time  with  earthly  stay. 

Her  loveliness  was  not  alone 

Of  face  and  form  and  tresses'  hue  ; 

For  aye  a  pure,  high  soul  shone  through 

Her  every  act ;  this  was  lone. 

PART  II. 

'Twas  in  the  radiant  summer  weather, 
When  God  looked,  smiling,  from  the  sky  ; 

And  we  went  wand'ring  much  together 
By  wood  and  lane,  lone  and  I  ; 
Attracted  by  the  subtle  tie 

Of  common  thoughts  and  common  tastes, 
Of  eyes  whose  vision  saw  the  same, 
And  freely  granted  beauty's  claim, 

Where  others  saw  but  worthless  wastes. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  11 

We  paused  to  hear  the  far  bells  ringing 
Across  the  distance,  sweet  and  clear. 

We  listened  to  the  wild  bird  singing 
The  song  he  meant  for  his  mate's  ear, 
And  deemed  our  chance  to  do  so,  dear. 

We  loved  to  watch  the  warrior  Sun, 

With  flaming  shield  and  flaunting  crest, 
Go  striding  down  the  gory  West, 

When  Day's  long  fight  was  fought  and  won. 

And  life  became  a  different  story, 
Where'er  I  looked,  I  saw  new  light. 

Earth's  self  assumed  a  greater  glory, 
Mine  eyes  were  cleared  to  fuller  sight. 
Then  first  I  saw  the  need  and  might 

Of  that  fair  band,  the  singing  throng, 
Who  gifted  with  the  skill,  divine, 
Take  up  the  threads  of  life,  spun  fine, 

And  weave  them  into  soulful  song. 

They  sung  for  me,  whose  passion  pressing 
My  soul,  found  vent  in  song  nor  line. 

They  bore  the  burden  of  expressing 
All  that  I  felt,  with  art's  design. 
And  every  word  of  theirs  was  mine. 

I  read  them  to  lone,  oftimes 

By  hill  and  shore,  beneath  fair  skies, 
And  she  looked  deeply  in  mine  eyes, 

And  knew  my  love  spoke  through  their  rhymes. 


12  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Her  life  was  like  the  stream  that  floweth, 
And  mine  was  like  the  waiting  sea  ; 

Her  love  was  like  the  flower  that  bloweth, 
And  mine  was  like  the  searching  bee — 
I  found  her  sweetness  all  for  me. 

God  plied  him  in  the  mint  of  time, 
And  coined  for  us  a  golden  day, 
And  rolled  it  ringing  down  life's  way 

With  love's  sweet  music  in  its  chime. 

And  God  unclasped  the  Book  of  Ages, 

And  laid  it  open  to  our  sight ; 
Upon  the  dimness  of  its  pages, 

So  long  consigned  to  rayless  night, 

He  shed  the  glory  of  his  light. 
We  read  them  well,  we  read  them  long 

And  ever  thrilling  did  we  see 

That  love  ruled  all  humanity, — 
The  master  passion,  pure  and  strong. 

PART  III. 

To-day  my  skies  are  bare  and  ashen, 
And  bend  on  me  without  a  beam. 

Since  love  is  held  the  master-passion, 
Its  loss  must  be  the  pain  supreme — 
And  grinning  Fate  has  wrecked  my  dream. 

But  pardon,  dear  departed  guest, 
I  will  not  rant,  I  will  not  rail ; 
For  good  the  grain  must  feel  the  flail ; 

There  are,  whom  love  has  never  blessed. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  13 

I  had  and  have  a  younger  brother, 
One  whom  I  loved  and  love  to-day 

As  never  fond  and  doting  mother 
Adored  the  babe  who  found  its  way 
From  Heavenly  scenes  into  her  day. 

Oh,  he  was  full  of  youth's  new  wine — 
A  man  on  life's  ascending  slope, 
Flushed  with  ambition,  full  of  hope  ; 

And  ever}7  wish  of  his  was  mine. 

A  kingly  youth  ;  the  way  before  him 
Was  thronged  with  victories  to  be  won  ; 

So  joyous,  too,  the  heavens  o'er  him 
Were  bright  with  an  unchanging  sun — 
His  days  with  rhyme  were  overrun. 

Toil  had  not  taught  him  Nature's  prose, 
Tears  had  not  dimmed  his  brilliant  eyes, 
And  sorrow  had  not  made  him  wise ; 

His  life  was  in  the  budding  rose. 

I  know  not  how  I  came  to  waken, 

Some  instinct  pricked  my  soul  to  sight ; 

My  heart  by  some  vague  thrill  was  shaken, — 
A  thrill  so  true  and  yet  so  slight, 
I  hardly  deemed  I  read  aright. 

As  when  a  sleeper,  ign'rant  why, 
Not  knowing  what  mysterious  hand 
Has  called  him  out  of  slumberland, 

Starts  up  to  find  some  danger  nigh. 


14  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Love  is  a  guest  that  comes,  unbidden, 
But  having  come,  asserts  his  right, 

He  will  not  be  repressed  nor  hidden. 
And  so  my  brother's  dawning  plight 
Became  uncovered  to  my  sight. 

Some  sound  mote  in  his  passing  tone, 
Caught  in  the  meshes  of  my  ear  ; 
Some  little  glance,  a  shade  too  dear 

Betrayed  the  love  he  bore  lone. 

What  could  I  do  ?     He  was  my  brother, 
And  young,  and  full  of  hope  and  trust ; 

I  could  not,  dared  not  try  to  smother 
His  flame,  and  turn  his  heart  to  dust. 
I  knew  how  oft  life  gives  a  crust 

To  starving  men  who  cry  for  bread  ; 
But  he  was  young,  so  few  his  days, 
He  had  not  learned  the  great  world's  ways, 

Nor  Disappointment's  volumes  read. 

However  fair  and  rich  the  booty, 
I  could  not  make  his  loss  my  gain. 

For  love  is  dear,  but  dearer,  duty, 

And  here  my  way  was  clear  and  plain. 
I  saw  how  I  could  save  him  pain. 

And  so  with  all  my  day  grown  dim, 

That  this  loved  brother's  sun  might  shine, 
I  joined  his  suit,  gave  over  mine, 

And  sought  lone,  to  plead  for  him. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  15 

I  found  her  in  an  eastern  bower, 

Where  all  day  long  the  am'rous  sun 
Lay  by  to  woo  a  timid  flower. 

This  day  his  course  was  well  nigh  run. 

But  still  with  lingering  art  he  spun 
Gold  fancies  on  the  shadowed  wall. 

The  vines  waved  soft  and  green  above. 

And  there  where  one  might  tell  his  love. 
I  told  my  pangs — I  told  her  all. 

I  told  her  all  and  as  she  hearkened, 

A  tear-drop  fell  upon  her  dress. 
With  grief  her  flushing  brow  was  darkened  ; 

One  sob  that  she  could  not  repress 

Betrayed  the  depths  ol  her  distress. 
Upon  her  griei  my  sorrow  fed, 

And  I  was  bowed  with  unlived  years. 

My  heart  swelled  with  a  sea  of  tears. 
The  tears  my  manhood  could  not  shed. 

The  world  is  Rome  and  Fate  is  Nero, 
Disporting  in  the  hour  of  doom. 

God  made  us  men  ;   times  make  the  hero — 
But  in  that  awful  space  of  gloom, 
I  gave  no  thought  but  sorrow's  room. 

All — all  was  dim  within  that  bow'r, 
What  time  the  sun  divorced  the  day  : 
And  all  the  shadows,  glooming  gray, 

Proclaimed  the  sadness  of  the  hour. 


16  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

She  could  not  speak — no  word  was  needed  ; 

Her  look,  half  strength  and  half  despair, 
Told  me  I  had  not  vainly  pleaded, 

That  she  would  not  ignore  my  prayer. 

And  so,  she  turned  and  left  me  there, 
And  as  she  went,  so  passed  my  bliss  ; 

She  loved  me,  I  could  not  mistake — 

But  for  her  own  and  my  love's  sake, 
Her  womanhood  could  rise  to  this. 

My  wounded  heart  fled  swift  to  cover, 
And  life  at  times  seemed  very  drear. 

My  brother  proved  an  ardent  lover — 
What  had  so  young  a  man  to  fear? 
He  wed  lone  within  the  year. 

No  shadow  clouds  her  tranquil  brow, 

Men  speak  her  husband's  name  with  pride, 
While  she  sits  honored  at  his  side — 

She  is — she  must  be  happy  now ! 

I  doubt  the  course  I  took  no  longer, 

Since  those  I  love  seem  satisfied. 
The  bond  between  them  will  grow  stronger 

As  they  go  forward,  side  by  side  ; 

Then  will  my  pains  be  justified. 
Their  joy  is  mine  and  that  is  best — 

I  am  not  totally  bereft  ; 

For  I  have  still  the  mem'ry  left — 
Love  stopped  with  me — A  Royal  Guest ! 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  17 


^rebettck  Douglass. 

A  hush  is  over  all  the  teeming  lists, 

And  there  is  pause,  a  breath-space  in  the  strife  ; 
A  spirit  brave  has  passed  beyond  the  mists 

And  vapors  that  obscure  the  sun  of  life. 
And  Ethiopia,  with  bosom  torn, 
Laments  the  passing  of  her  noblest  born. 

She  weeps  for  him  a  mother's  burning  tears — 
She  loved  him  with  a  mother's  deepest  love 

He  was  her  champion  thro'  direful  years, 
And  held  her  weal  all  other  ends  above. 

When  Bondage  held  her  bleeding  in  the  dust, 

He  raised  her  up  and  whispered,  "Hope  and  Trust." 

For  her  his  voice,  a  fearless  clarion,  rung 
That  broke  in  warning  on  the  ears  of  men ; 

For  her  the  strong  bow  of  his  pow'r  he  strung 
And  sent  his  arrows  to  the  very  den 

Where  grim  Oppression  held  his  bloody  place 

And  gloated  o'er  the  mis'ries  of  a  race. 

And  he  was  no  soft-tongued  apologist ; 

He  spoke  straight-forward,  fearlessly  unco  wed ; 
The  sunlight  of  his  truth  dispelled  the  mist 

And  set  in  bold  relief  each  dark-hued  cloud  ; 
To  sin  and  crime  he  gave  their  proper  hue, 
And  hurled  at  evil  what  was  evil's  due. 


18  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Thro'  good  and  ill  report  he  cleaved  his  way 

Right  onward,  with  his  face  set  toward  the  heights, 

Nor  feared  to  face  the  foeman's  dread  array — 
The  lash  of  scorn,  the  sting  oi  petty  spites. 

He  dared  the  lightning  in  the  lightning's  track, 

And  answered  thunder  with  his  thunder  back. 

When  men  maligned  him  and  their  torrent  wrath 
In  furious  imprecations  o'er  him  broke, 

He  kept  his  counsel  as  he  kept  his  path ; 
'Twas  for  his  race,  not  for  himself,  he  spoke. 

He  knew  the  import  of  his  Master's  call 

And  felt  himself  too  mighty  to  be  small. 

No  miser  in  the  good  he  held  was  he — 
His  kindness  followed  his  horizon's  rim. 

His  heart,  his  talents  and  his  hands  were  free 
To  all  who  truly  needed  aught  of  him. 

Where  poverty  and  ignorance  were  rife, 

He  gave  his  bounty  as  he  gave  his  life. 

The  place  and  cause  that  first  aroused  his  might 
Still  proved  its  pow'r  until  his  latest  day. 

In  Freedom's  lists  and  for  the  aid  of  Right 
Still  in  the  foremost  rank  he  waged  the  fray  ; 

Wrong  lived  ;  His  occupation  was  not  gone. 

He  died  in  action  with  his  armor  on ! 

We  weep  for  him,  but  we  have  touched  his  hand,. 

And  felt  the  magic  of  his  presence  nigh, 
The  current  that  he  sent  thro'  out  the  land, 

The  kindling  spirit  of  his  battle-cry 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS,  19 

O'er  all  that  holds  us  we  shall  triumph  yet 
And  place  our  banner  where  his  hopes  were  set ! 

Oh,  Douglass,  thou  hast  passed  beyond  the  shore, 

But  still  thy  voice  is  ringing  o'er  the  gale ! 
Thou  'bt  taught  thy  race  how  high  her  hopes  may  soar 

And  bade  her  seek  the  heights,  nor  faint,  nor  fail. 
She  will  not  fail,  she  heeds  thy  stirring  cry, 
She  knows  thy  guardian  spirit  will  be  nigh, 
And  rising  from  beneath  the  chast'ning  rod, 
She  stretches  out  her  bleeding  hands  to  God  ! 


(£ome. 


The  change  has  come  and  Helen  sleeps— 
Not  sleeps  ;  but  wakes  to  greater  deeps 
Of  wisdom,  glory,  truth  and  light, 
That  ever  blessed  her  seeking  sight, 
In  this  low,  long,  lethargic  night, 
Worn  out  with  strife, 
Which  men  call  life. 

The  change  has  come,  and  who  would  say,? 
"  I  would  it  were  not  come  to-day." 
What  were  the  respite  till  to-morrow  — 
Postponement  of  a  certain  sorrow, 
From  which  each  passing  day  would  borrow  ? 
Let  grief  be  dumb, 
The  change  has  come. 


20  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 


Dream  days  of  fond  delight  and  hours, 

As  ros^-hued  as  dawn,  are  mine. 

Love's  drowsy  wine, 
Brewed  from  the  heart  of  Passion  flowers. 

Flows  warmly  o'er  my  lips 

And  save  thee,  all  the  world  is  in  eclipse. 

There  were  no  light  if  thou  wert  not ; 

The  sun  would  be  too  sad  too  shine, 

And  all  the  line 
Of  hours  from  dawn  would  be  a  blot; 

And  Night  would  haunt  the  skies, 

An  unlaid  ghost  with  staring  dark-ringed  eyes. 

Oh,  love  if  thou  wert  not  my  love, 

And  I  perchance  not  thine — what  then  ? 

Could  gift  of  men 
Or  favor  of  the  God  above, 

Plant  ought  in  this  bare  heart 

Or  teach  this  tongue  the  singer's  soulful  art  ? 

Ah,  no  !     'Tis  love,  and  love  alone 

That  spurs  my  soul  so  surely  on  ; 

Turns  night  to  dawn, 
And  thorns  to  roses  fairest  blown  ; 

And  winter  drear  to  spring — 

Oh  were  it  not  for  love  I  could  not  sing ! 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  21 


XDe  IDear  tr/e  ItTask. 

We  wear  the  mask  that  grins  and  lies, 
It  hides  our  cheeks  and  shades  our  eyes — 
This  debt  we  pay  to  human  guile ; 
With  torn  and  bleeding  hearts  we  smile 
And  mouth  with  myriad  subtleties, 

Why  should  the  world  be  over-wise. 
In  counting  all  our  tears  and  sighs  ? 
Nay,  let  them  only  see  us,  while 
We  wear  the  mask. 

We  smile,  but  oh  great  Christ,  our  cries 
To  Thee  from  tortured  souls  arise. 
We  sing,  but  oh  the  clay  is  vile 
Beneath  our  feet,  and  long  the  mile, 
But  let  the  world  dream  otherwise, 
We  wear  the  mask  ! 

£fye  Poet  anb  fys  Song. 

A  song  is  but  a  little  thing 
And  yet  what  joy  it  is  to  sing. 
In  hours  of  toil  it  gives  me  zest, 
And  when  at  eve  I  long  for  rest ; 
When  cows  come  home  along  the  bars, 

And  in  the  fold  I  hear  the  bell, 
As  Night,  the  shepherd,  herds  his  stars, 

I  sing  my  song  and  all  is  well. 


22  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

There  are  no  ears  to  hear  my  lays, 
No  lips  to  lift  a  word  of  praise ; 
But  still  with  faith  unfaltering, 
I  live  and  laugh  and  love  and  sing. 
What  matters  yon  unheeding  throng  ? 

They  cannot  feel  my  spirit's  spell, 
Since  life  is  sweet  and  love  is  long, 

I  sing  my  song  and  all  is  well. 

My  days  are  never  days 'of  ease, 
I  till  my  ground  and  prune  my  trees. 
When  ripened  gold  is  all  the  plain, 
I  put  my  sickle  to  the  grain. 
I  labor  hard  and  toil  and  sweat, 

While  others  dream  within  the  dell ; 
But  even  while  my  brow  is  wet, 

I  sing  my  song  and  all  is  well. 

Sometimes  the  sun,  unkindly  hot, 
My  garden  makes  a  desert  spot. 
Sometimes  a  blight  upon  the  tree 
Takes  all  my  fruit  away  from  me  ; 
And  then  with  throes  of  bitter  pain 

Rebellious  passions  rise  and  swell ; 
But — life  is  more  than  fruit  or  grain, 

And  so  I  sing,  and  all  is  well. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  23 


(Dbe  to  (Ethiopia. 

0  Mother  Race  !  to  thee  I  bring 
This  pledge  of  faith  unwavering, 

This  tribute  to  thy  glory. 

1  know  the  pangs  which  thou  didst  feel, 
When  Slavery  crushed  thee  with  its  heel, 

With  thy  dear  blood  all  gory. 

Sad  days  were  those — ah,  sad  indeed  ! 

But  through  the  land  the  fruitful  seed 
Of  better  times  was  growing. 

The  plant  of  freedom  upward  sprung, 

And  spread  its  leaves  so  fresh  and  young- 
Its  blossoms  now  are  blowing. 

On  every  hand  in  this  fair  land, 
Proud  Ethiope's  swarthy  children  stand 

Beside  their  fairer  neighbor  ; 
The  forests  flee  before  their  stroke, 
Their  hammers  ring,  their  forges  smoke, — 

They  stir  in  honest  labor. 

They  tread  the  fields  where  honor  calls  ; 
Their  voices  sound  through  senate  halls 

In  majesty  and  power. 
To  right  they  cling  ;  the  hymns  they  sing 
Up  to  the  skies  in  beauty  ring, 

And  bolder  grow  each  hour. 


24  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Be  proud  my  Race,  in  mind  and  soul ; 
Thy  name  is  writ  on  Glory's  scroll 

In  characters  of  fire. 

High  'mid  the  clouds  of  Fame's  bright  sky 
Thy  banner's  blazoned  folds  now  fly, 

And  truth  shall  lift  them  higher. 

Thou  hast  the  right  to  noble  pride, 
Whose  spotless  robes  were  purified 

By  blood's  severe  baptism. 
Upon  thy  brow  the  cross  was  laid, 
And  labor's  painful  sweat-beads  made 

A  consecrating  chrism. 

No  other  race,  or  white  or  black, 
When  bound  as  thou  wert,  to  the  rack, 

So  seldom  stooped  to  grieving  ; 
No  other  race,  when  free  again, 
Forgot  the  past  and  proved  them  men 

So  noble  in  forgiving. 

Go  on  and  up  !     Our  souls  and  eyes 
Shall  follow  thy  continuous  rise  ; 

Our  ears  shall  list  thy  story 
From  bards  who  from  thy  root  shall  spring, 
And  proudly  tune  their  lyres  to  sing 

Of  Ethiopia's  glory. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  25 


Day. 


The  air  is  dark,  the  sky  is  gray, 
The  misty  shadows  come  and  go, 

And  here  within  my  dusky  room 

Each  chair  looks  ghostly  in  the  gloom. 
Outside  the  rain  falls  cold  and  slow  — 

Half-stinging  drops,  half-blinding  spray. 

Each  slightest  sound  is  magnified. 

For  drowsy  quiet  holds  her  reign  ; 
The  burnt  stick  in  the  fireplace  breaks, 
The  nodding  cat  with  start  awakes, 

And  then  to  sleep  drops  off  again, 
Unheeding  Towser  at  her  side. 

I  look  far  out  across  the  lawn, 

Where  huddled  stand  the  silly  sheep  ; 

My  work  lies  idle  at  my  hands, 

My  thoughts  fly  out  like  scattered  strands 
Of  thread,  and  on  the  verge  of  sleep  — 

Still  half  awake  —  I  dream  and  yawn. 

What  spirits  rise  before  my  eyes  ! 

How  various  of  kind  and  form  ! 
Sweet  memories  of  days  long  past, 
The  dreams  of  youth  that  could  not  last, 

Each  smiling  calm,  each  raging  storm, 
That  swept  across  my  early  skies. 


26  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Half  seen,  the  bare,  gaunt-fingered  boughs 
Before  my  window  sweep  and  sway, 

And  chafe  in  tortures  of  unrest. 

My  chin  sinks  down  upon  my  breast ; 
I  cannot  work  on  such  a  day, 

But  only  sit  and  dream  and  drowse. 


SparrotD. 


A  little  bird,  with  plumage  brown, 
Beside  my  window  nutters  down, 
A  moment  chirps  its  little  strain, 
Then  taps  upon  my  window  pane, 
And  chirps  again,  and  hops  along, 
To  call  my  notice  to  its  song ; 
But  I  work  on,  nor  heed  its  lay, 
Till,  in  neglect,  it  flies  away. 

So  birds  of  peace  and  hope  and  love 
Come  fluttering  earthward  from  above, 
To  settle  on  life's  window  sills, 
And  ease  our  load  of  earthly  ills  ; 
But  we,  in  traffic's  rush  and  din 
Too  deep  engaged  to  let  them  in, 
With  deadened  heart  and  sense  plod  on, 
Nor  know  our  loss  till  they  are  gone. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  27 


Sunset. 

The  river  sleeps  beneath  the  sky, 

And  clasps  the  shadows  to  its  breast ; 
The  crescent  moon  shines  dim  on  high  ; 
And  in  the  lately  radiant  west 
The  gold  is  fading  into  gray. 
Now  stills  the  lark  his  festive  lay 
And  mourns  with  me  the  dying  day, — 

While  in  the  south  the  first  faint  star 

Lilts  to  the  night  its  silver  face, 
And  twinkles  to  the  moon  afar 

Across  the  heaven's  graying  space  ; 

Low  murmurs  reach  me  from  the  town, 
As  Day  puts  on  her  somber  crown, 
And  shakes  her  mantle  darkly  down. 


Columbian    (D6e. 

I 
Four  hundred  years  ago  a  tangled  waste 

Lay  sleeping  on  the  west  Atlantic  side  ; 
Their  devious  ways  the  Old  World's  millions  traced 

Content,  and  loved,  and  labored,  dared  and  died, 
While  students  still  believed  the  charts  they  conned, 

And  reveled  in  their  thriftless  ignorance, 
Nor  dreamed  of  other  lands  that  lay  beyond 

Old  Ocean's  dense,  indefinite  expanse. 


28  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

II 

But  deep  within  her  heart  old  Nature  knew 

That  she  had  once  arrayed,  at  Earth's  behest, 
Another  offspring,  fine  and  fair  to  view, — 

The  chosen  suckling  of  the  mother's  breast. 
The  child  was  wrapped  in  vestments  soft  and  fine, 

Each  fold  a  work  of  Nature's  matchless  art  ; 
The  mother  looked  on  it  with  love  divine, 

And  strained  the  loved  one  closely  to  her  heart. 
And  there  it  lay,  and  with  the  warmth  grew  strong 

And  hearty,  by  the  salt  sea  breezes  fanned, 
Till  Time  with  mellowing  touches  passed  along, 

And  changed  the  infant  to  a  mighty  land. 

Ill 
But  men  knew  naught  of  this,  till  there  arose 

That  mighty  mariner,  the  Genoese, 
Who  dared  to  try,  in  spite  of  fears  and  foes, 

The  unknown  fortunes  of  unsounded  seas. 
O  noblest  of  Italia's  sons,  thy  bark 

Went  not  alone  into  that  shrouding  night, 
0  dauntless  darer  of  the  rayless  dark, 

The  world  sailed  with  thee  to  eternal  light. 
The  deer  haunts  that  with  game  were  crowded  then 

To-da,y  are  tilled  and  cultivated  lands  ; 
The  schoolhouse  tow'rs  where  bruin  had  his  den, 

And  where  the  wigwam  stood  the  chapel  stands  ; 
The  place  that  nurtured  men  of  savage  mien 

Now  teems  with  men  of  Nature's  noblest  types  ; 
Where  moved  the  forest-foliage  banner  green, 

Now  nutters  in  the  breeze  the  stars  and  stripes  ! 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  29 


Cark. 


Though  the  winds  be  dank, 
And  the  sky  be  sober, 

And  the  grieving  day 

In  a  mantle  gray 
Hath  led  her  waiting  maiden  robe  her,  — 

All  the  fields  along 

I  can  hear  the  song 
Of  the  meadow  lark, 

As  she  flits  and  flutters, 

And  laughs  at  the  thunder  when  it  mutters. 

0  happy  bird,  of  heart  most  gay 

To  sing  when  skies  are  gray  ! 

When  the  clouds  are  full, 
And  the  tempest  master 

Lets  the  loud  winds  sweep 

From  his  bosom  deep 
Like  heralds  of  some  dire  disaster  ; 

Then  the  heart  alone, 

To  itself  makes  moan  ; 
And  the  songs  come  slow, 

While  the  tears  fall  fleeter, 

And  silence  than  song  by  far  seems  sweeter. 

Oh,  few  are  they  along  the  way 

Who  sing  when  skies  are  gray  ! 


30  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 


tEfye  Seebltng. 

As  a  quiet  little  seedling 

Lay  within  its  darksome  bedr 

To  itself  it  fell  a  talking, 
And  this  is  what  it  said  : 

"  I  am  not  so  very  robust, 
But  I'll  do  the  best  I  can  "; 

And  the  seedling  from  that  moment 
Its  work  of  life  began. 

First  it  pushed  a  little  leaflet 

Up  into  the  light  of  day, 
To  examine  the  surroundings 

And  show  the  rest  the  way. 

The  leaflet  liked  the  prospect, 
So  it  called  its  brother  Stem  ; 

Then  two  other  leaflets  heard  it, 
And  quickly  followed  them. 

To  be  sure,  the  haste  and  hurry 
Made  the  seedling  sweat  and  pant  ; 

But  almost  before  it  knew  it 
It  found  itself  a  plant. 

The  sunshine  poured  upon  it, 

And  the  clouds  they  gave  a  shower  ;: 

And  the  little  plant  kept  growing 
Till  it  found  itself  a  flower. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  31 

Little  folks,  be  like  the  seedling, 

Always  do  the  best  you  can  ; 
Every  child  must  share  life's  labor 

Just  as  well  as  every  man. 

And  the  sun  and  showers  will  help  you 
Through  the  lonesome,  struggling  hours, 

Till  you  raise  to  light  and  beauty 
Virtue's  fair,  unfading  flowers. 


Cifc. 

A  crust  of  bread  and  a  corner  to  sleep  in, 
A  minute  to  smile  and  an  hour  to  weep  in, 
A  pint  of  joy  to  a  peck  of  trouble, 
And  never  a  laugh  but  the  moans  come  double ; 
And  that  is  life ! 

A  crust  and  a  corner  that  love  makes  precious, 
With  the  smile  to  warm  and  the  tears  to  refresh  us ; 
And  joy  seems  sweeter  when  cares  come  after, 
And  a  moan  is  the  finest  of  foils  for  laughter  ; 
And  that  is  life ! 


Ctme. 


The  cloud  looked  in  at  the  window, 
And  said  to  the  day,  "  Be  dark  !" 

And  the  roguish  rain  tapped  hard  on  the  pane 
To  stifle  the  song  of  the  lark. 


32  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

The  wind  sprang  up  in  the  tree  tops 
And  shrieked  with  a  voice  of  death, 

But  the  rough-voiced  breeze,  that  shook  the  trees, 
Was  touched  with  a  violet's  breath. 


^abes  a  Dream? 


Why  fades  a'  dream  ? 

An  iridescent  ray 
Flecked  in  between  the  tryst  ' 

Of  night  and  day. 
Why  fades  a  dream  ?  — 

Of  consciousness  the  shade 

Wrought  out  by  lack  of  light  and  made 
Upon  life's  stream. 
Why  fades  a  dream  ? 

That  thought  may  thrive, 

So  fades  the  fleshless  dream  ; 
Lest  men  should  learn  to  trust 

The  things  that  seem. 

So  fades  a  dream, 
That  living  thought  may  grow 
And  like  a  waxing  star-beam  glow 

Upon  life's  stream  — 

So  fades  a  dream. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  33 


€f?e  Secret. 

What  says  the  wind  to  the  waving  trees  ? 

What  says  the  wave  to  the  river  ? 
What  means  the  sigh  in  the  passing  breeze  ? 

Why  do  the  rushes  quiver  ? 
Have  you  not  heard  the  fainting  cry 
Of  the  flowers  that  said  "  Good  bye,  good  bye  ?" 

List  how  the  gray  dove  moans  and  grieves 

Under  the  woodland  cover  ; 
List  to  the  drift  of  the  falling  leaves, 

List  to  the  wail  of  the  lover. 
Have  you  not  caught  the  message  heard 
Already  by  wave  and  breeze  and  bird  ? 

Come,  come  away  to  the  river's  bank, 

Come  in  the  early  morning ; 
Come  when  the  grass  with  dew  is  dank, 

There  you  will  find  the  warning — 
A  hint  in  the  kiss  of  the  quickening  air 
Of  the  secret  that  birds  and  breezes  bear. 


^e  I}ab  fys  Dream. 

He  had  his  dream,  and  all  through  life 
Worked  up  to  it  through  toil  and  strife. 
Afloat  fore'er  before  his  eyes, 


34  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

It  colored  for  him  all  his  skies  : 
The  storm-cloud  dark 
Above  his  barque, 

The  calm  and  listless  vault  of  blue 

Took  on  its  hopeful  hue, 

Is  tinctured  every  golden  beam — 
He  had  his  dream. 

He  labored  hard  and  failed  at  last, 
His  sails  too  weak  to  bear  the  blast. 
The  raging  tempests  tore  away 
And  sent  his  beating  barque  astray. 
But  what  cared  he 
For  wind  or  sea  ! 

He  said,  "  The  tempest  will  be  short, 
My  barque  will  come  to  port." 
He  saw  through  every  cloud  a  gleam- 
He  had  his  dream. 


Ct  (Ereeb  ana  Hot  a  (Ereeb. 

TO    J.    E.    ILIFF. 

I  am  no  priest  of  crooks  nor  creeds, 
For  human  wants  and  human  needs 
Are  more  to  me  than  prophets'  deeds 
And  human  tears  and  human  cares 
Affect  me  more  than  human  prayers. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  35 

Go,  cease  your  wail,  lugubrious  saint ! 
You  fret  high  Heaven  with  your  plaint. 
Is  this  the   "  Christian's  joy  "  you  paint? 
Is  this  the  Christian's  boasted  bliss  ? 
Avails  your  faith  no  more  than  this  ? 

Take  up  your  arms,  come  out  with  me, 
Let  Heav'n  alone  ;  humanity 
Needs  more  and  Heaven  less  from  thee. 
With  pity  for  mankind  look  'round  ; 
Help  them  to  rise — and  Heaven  is  found. 


Beyonb  tfye  years. 

i. 

Beyond  the  years  the  answer  lies, 
Beyond  where  brood  the  grieving  skies 

And  Night  drops  tears. 
Where  Faith  rod-chastened  smiles  to  rise 

And  doff  its  fears, 

And  carping  Sorrow  pines  and  dies — 
Beyond  the  years. 

II. 

Beyond  the  years,  the  prayer  for  rest 
Shall  beat  no  more  within  the  breast ; 

The  darkness  clears, 
And  Morn  perched  on  the  mountain's  crest 

Her  form  uprears — 
The  day  that  is  to  come  is  best, 

Beyond  the  years. 


36  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

III. 

Beyond  the  years,  the  soul  shall  find 
That  endless  peace  for  which  it  pined, 

For  light  appears, 
And  to  the  eyes  that  still  were  blind 

With  blood  and  tears, 
Their  sight  shall  come  all  unconfined 

Beyond  the  years. 


Dirge. 

Place  this  bunch  of  mignonette 
In  her  cold,  dead  hand  : 

When  the  golden  sun  is  set, 
Where  the  poplars  stand, 

Bury  her  from  sun  and  day, 

Lay  my  little  love  away 
From  my  sight. 

She  was  like  a  modest  flower 
Blown  in  sunny  June, 

Warm  as  sun  at  noon's  high  hour- 
Chaster  than  the  moon. 

Ah,  her  day  was  brief  and  bright, 

Earth  has  lost  a  star  of  light. 
She  is  dead. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  37 

Softly  breathe  her  name  to  me, 

Ah,  I  loved  her  so. 
Gentle  let  your  tribute  be, 

None  may  better  know 
Her  true  worth  than  I  who  weep 
O'er  her  as  she  lies  asleep — 
Soft  asleep. 

Lay  these  lilies  on  her  breast, 

They  are  not  more  white 
Than  the  soul  of  her,  at  rest 

'Neath  their  petals  bright. 
Chant  your  aves  soft  and  low, 
Solemn  be  your  tread  and  slow, — 
She  is  dead. 

Lay  her  here  beneath  the  grass, 

Cool  and  green  and  sweet, 
Where  the  gentle  brook  may  pass 

Crooning  at  her  feet. 
Nature's  bards  shall  come  and  sing, 
And  the  fairest  flowers  shall  spring 
Where  she  lies. 

Safe  above  the  waters  swirl, 

She  has  crossed  the  bar  ; 
Earth  has  lost  a  precious  pearl, 

Heaven  has  gained  a  star, 
That  shall  ever  sing  and  shine, 
Till  it  quells  this  grief  of  mine 
For  my  love. 


38  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 


Coloreb  SoIMers. 


If  the  muse  were  mine  to  tempt  it 

And  my  feeble  voice  were  strong, 
If  my  tongue  were  trained  to  measures, 

I  would  sing  a  stirring  song. 
I  would  sing  a  song  heroic 

Of  those  noble  sons  of  Ham, 
Of  the  gallant  colored  soldiers 

Who  fought  for  Uncle  Sam  ! 

In  the  early  days  you  scorned  them, 

And  with  many  a  flip  and  flout, 
'Said  "these  battles  are  the  white  man's 

And  the  whites  will  fight  them  out." 
Up  the  hills  you  fought  and  faltered, 

In  the  vales  you  strove  and  bled, 
While  your  ears  still  heard  the  thunder 

Of  the  foes'  increasing  tread. 

Then  distress  fell  on  the  nation 

And  the  flag  was  drooping  low  ; 
Should  the  dust  pollute  your  banner  ? 

No  !  the  nation  shouted,  No  ! 
So  when  war,  in  savage  triumph, 

Spread  abroad  his  funeral  pall — 
Then  you  called  the  colored  soldiers, 

And  they  answered  to  your  call. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  39 

And  like  hounds  unleashed  and  eager 

For  the  life  blood  of  the  prey, 
Sprung  they  forth  and  bore  them  bravely 

In  the  thickest  of  the  fray. 
And  where'er  the  fight  was  hottest — 

Where  the  bullets  fastest  fell, 
There  they  pressed  unblanched  and  fearless 

At  the  very  mouth  of  hell. 

Ah,  they  rallied  to  the  standard 

To  uphold  it  by  their  might, 
None  were  stronger  in  the  labors, 

None  were  braver  in  the  fight. 
At  Forts  Donelson  and  Henry 

On  the  plains  of  Olustee, 
They  were  foremost  in  the  fight 

Of  the  battles  of  the  free. 

And  at  Pillow  !     God  have  mercy 

On  the  deeds  committed  there, 
And  the  souls  of  those  poor  victims 

Sent  to  Thee  without  a  prayer. 
Let  the  fullness  of  thy  pity 

O'er  the  hot  wrought  spirits  sway, 
Of  the  gallant  colored  soldier 

Who  fell  fighting  on  that  day  ! 

Yes,  the  Blacks  enjoy  their  freedom 

And  they  won  it  dearly,  too  ; 
For  the  life  blood  of  their  thousands 

Did  the  southern  fields  bedew. 


40  MAJORS    AND   MINORS. 

In  the  darkness  of  their  bondage, 
In  their  depths  of  slavery's  night  ; 

Their  muskets  flashed  the  dawning 
And  they  fought  their  way  to  light. 

They  were  comrades  then  and  brothers, 

Are  they  more  or  less  to-day  ? 
They  were  good  to  stop  a  bullet 

And  to  front  the  fearful  fray. 
They  were  citizens  and  soldiers, 

When  rebellion  raised  its  head  ; 
And  the  traits  that  made  them  worthy — 

Ah  !  those  virtues  are  not  dead. 

They  have  shared  your  nightly  vigils, 

They  have  shared  your  daily  toil ; 
And  their  blood  with  yours  commingling 

Has  made  rich  the  Southern  soil. 
They  have  slept  and  marched  and  suffered 

'Neath  the  same  dark  skies  as  you, 
They  have  met  as  fierce  a  foeman 

And  have  been  as  brave  and  true. 

And  their  deeds  shall  find  a  record, 

In  the  registry  of  Fame  ; 
For  their  blood  has  cleansed  completely 

Every  blot  of  Slavery's  shame. 
So  all  honor  and  all  glory 

To  those  noble  Sons  of  Ham — 
The  gallant  colored  soldiers, 

Who  fought  for  Uncle  Sam  ! 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  41 


Deab. 

A  knock  is  at  her  door,  but  she  is  weak  ; 

Strange  dews  have  washed  the  paint  streaks  from  her 

cheeks  ; 

She  does  not  rise,  but  ah  this  friend  ie  known, 
And  knows  that  he  will  find  her  all  alone. 
So  opens  he  the  door,  and  with  soft  tread, 
Goes  straightway  to  the  richly  curtained  bed. 
His  soft  hand  on  her  dewy  head  he  lays. 
A  strange  white  light  she  gives  him  for  his  gaze. 
Then,  looking  on  the  glory  of  her  charms, 
He  crushes  her  resistless  in  his  arms. 

Stand  back  !  look  not  upon  this  bold  embrace, 
Nor  view  the  calmness  of  the  wanton's  face, 
With  joy  unspeakable  and  'bated  breath, 
She  keeps  her  last,  long,  liaison  with  death  ! 


Co  tfye  IHemory  af  ZHary 


God  has  His  plans,  and  what  if  we, 
With  our  sight  be  too  blind  to  see 
Their  full  fruition  ;  can  not  He, 
Who  made  it,  solve  the  mystery? 
One  whom  we  loved  has  fall'n  asleep, 
Not  died  ;  although  her  calm  be  deep. 
Some  new,  unknown  and  strange  suprise 
In  Heaven  holds  enrapt  her  eyes. 


42  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

And  can  you  blame  her  that  her  gaze 
Is  turned  away  from  earthly  ways, 
When  to  her  eyes,  God's  light  and  love 
Have  giv'n  the  view  of  things  above  ? 
A  gentle  spirit  sweetly  good, 
The  pearl  of  precious  womanhood  ; 
Who  heard  the  voice  of  duty  clear, 
And  found  her  mission  soon  and  near. 

She  loved  all  nature,  flowers  fair, 
The  warmth  of  sun,  the  kiss  of  air, 
The  birds  that  filled  the  sky  with  song, 
The  stream  that  laughed  its  way  along. 
Her  home  to  her  was  shrine  and  throne, 
But  one  love  held  her  not  alone  ; 
She  sought  out  poverty  and  grief, 
Who  touched  her  robe  and  found  relief. 

So  sped  she  in  her  Master's  work, 

Too  busy  and  too  brave  to  shirk, 

When  through  the  silence  dusk  and  dim, 

God  called  her  and  she  fled  to  Him. 

We  wonder  at  the  early  call, 

And  tears  of  sorrow  can  but  fall 

For  her  o'er  whom  we  spread  the  pall ; 

But  faith,  sweet  faith  is  over  all. 

The  house  is  dust,  the  voice  is  dumb, 
But  through  undying  years  to  come, 
The  spark  that  glowed  within  her  soul 
Shall  light  our  footsteps  to  the  goal. 


MAJORS    AND   MINORS.  43 

She  went  her  way  ;  but  oh,  she  trod 
The  path  that  led  her  straight  to  God. 
Such  lives  as  this  put  death  to  scorn ; 
They  lose  our  day  to  find  God's  morn. 


Comparison. 

The  sky  of  brightest  gray  seems  dark 
To  one  whose  sky  was  ever  white. 

To  one  who  never  knew  a  spark, 
Thro'  all  his  life,  of  love  or  light, 
The  grayest  cloud  seems  over  bright. 

The  robin  sounds  a  beggar's  note 

Where  one  the  nightingale  has  heard, 

But  he,  for  whom  no  silver  throat, 
Its  liquid  music  ever  stirred, 
Deems  robin  still  the  sweetest  bird. 


By  tfye  Stream. 

By  the  stream  I  dream  in  calm  delight,  and  watch  as 
in  a  glass, 

How  the  clouds  like  crowds  of  snowy-hued  and  white- 
robed  maidens  pass, 

And  the  water  into  ripples  breaks  and  sparkles  as  it 
spreads, 

Like  a  host  of  armored  knights  with  silver  helmets  on 
their  heads. 


44  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

And  I  deem  the  stream  an  emblem  fit  of  human  life 

may  go, 
For  I  find  a  mind   may  sparkle   much  and  yet  but 

shallows  show, 
And  a  soul  may  glow  with  myriad  lights  and  wondrous 

mysteries, 
When  it  only  lies  a  dormant  thing  and  mirrors  what  it 

sees. 


Conscience  anb  Kemorse. 

"  Goodbye,"  I  said  to  my  conscience — 

"  Goodbye  for  aye  and  aye," 
And  I  put  her  hands  off  harshly, 

And  turned  my  face  away, 
And  conscience  smitten  sorely 

Returned  not  from  that  day. 

But  a  time  came  when  my  spirit 

Grew  weary  of  its  pace  ; 
And  I  cried  :  "  Come  back,  my  conscience, 

I  long  to  see  thy  face.1' 
But  conscience  cried  :  "  I  cannot, 

Remorse  sits  in  my  place. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS,  45 


fEfye  Coper  artb  tfye  ITToon. 

A  lover  whom  duty  called  over  the  wave, 

Within  himself  communed:     "  Will  my  love  be  true 
If  left  to  herself?     Had  I  better  not  sue 

Some  friend  to  watch  over  her,  good  and  grave  ? 
"  But  my  friend  might  fail  in  my  need,"  he  said, 
And  I  return  to  find  love  dead. 
Since  friendships  fade  like  the  flow'rs  of  June, 
I  will  leave  her  in  charge  of  the  stable  moon. 

Then  he  said  to  the  moon:     "  Oh  dear  old  moon 
Who  for  years  and  years  from  thy  throne  above 
Haat  nurtured  and  guarded  young  lovers  and  love, 

My  heart  has  but  come  to  its  waiting  June, 
And  the  promise  time  of  the  budding  vine  ; 
Oh  guard  thee  well  this  love  of  mine. 
And  he  harked  him  then  while  all  was  still, 
And  the  pale  moon  answered  and  said  "  I  will." 

And  he  sailed  in  his  ship  o'er  many  seas, 

And  he  wandered  wide  o'er  strange  far  strands: 
In  isles  of  the  south  and  in  Orient  lands, 

Where  pestilence  lurks  in  the  breath  of  the  breeze. 
But  his  star  was  high,  so  he  braved  the  main, 
And  sailed  him  blithely  home  again  ; 
And  with  joy,  he  bended  his  footsteps  soon 
To  learn  of  his  love  from  the  matron  moon. 


46  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

She  gat  as  of  yore,  in  her  olden  place, 
Serene  as  death,  in  her  silver  chair. 
A  white  rose  gleamed  in  her  whiter  hair, 

And  the  tint  of  a  blush  was  on  her  face. 
At  sight  of  the  youth,  she  sadly  bowed 
And  hid  her  face  'neath  a  gracious  cloud. 
She  faltered  faint  on  the  night's  dim  marge, 
But,  "  how,"  spoke  the  youth,  "  have  you  kept  your 
charge?" 

The  moon  was  sad  at  a  trust  ill-kept. 

The  blush  went  out  in  her  blanching  cheek, 
And  her  voice  was  timid  and  low  and  weak, 

As  she  made  her  plea  and  sighed  and  wept. 
"  Oh  another  prayed  and  another  plead 
And  I  couldn't  resist,"  she  answering  said, 
"But  love  still  grows  in  the  hearts  of  men, 
Go  forth  dear  youth  and  love  again." 

But  he  turned  him  away  from  her  proffered  grace. 
"  Thou  art  false,  Oh  moon,  as  the  hearts  of  men, 
I  will  not,  will  not  love  again." 

And  he  turned  sheer  'round  with  a  soul  sick  face, 
To  the  sea,  and  cried:     "  Sea,  curse  the  moon 
Who  makes  her  vows  and  forgets  so  soon." 
And  the  awful  sea  with  anger  stirred, 
And  his  breast  heaved  hard  as  he  lay  and  heard.. 

And  ever  the  moon  wept  down  in  rain, 
And  ever  her  sighs  rose  high  in  wind: 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  47 

But  the  earth  and  sea  were  deaf  and  blind, 
And  she  wept  and  sighed  her  griefs  in  vain. 
And  ever  at  night,  when  the  storm  is  fierce, 
The  cries  of  a  wraith  through  the  thunders  pierce: 
And  the  waves  strain  their  awful  hands  on  high  . 
To  tear  the  false  moon  from  the  sky. 


Sfytps  tEfyat  pass  in  tfye 


Out  in  the  sky  the  great  dark  clouds  are  massing, 

I  look  far  out  into  the  pregnant  night 
Where  I  can  hear  a  solemn  booming  gun 

And  catch  the  gleaming  of  a  random  light, 
That  tells  me  that  the  ship  I  seek  is  passing,  passing. 

My  tearful  eyes,  my  soul's  deep  hurt  are  glassing  ; 

For  I  would  hail  and  check  that  ship  of  ships. 
I  stretch  my  hands  imploring,  cry  aloud, 

My  voice  falls  dead  a  foot  from  mine  own  lips 
And   but   its   ghost   doth   reach   that   vessel,   passing 
passing. 

Oh  Earth,  oh  Sky,  oh  Ocean,  both  surpassing, 
Oh  heart  of  mine,  oh  soul  that  dreads  the  dark  ! 

Is  there  no  hope  for  me  ?    Is  there  no  way 

That  I  may  sight  and  check  that  speeding  bark, 

Which  out  of  sight  and  sound  is  passing,  passing  ? 


48  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Itature  anb  Ctrl. 

TO  MY  FRIEND,  CHARLES  B.  NETTLETON. 


The  young  queen  Nature,  ever  sweet  and  fair, 

Once  on  a  time  fell  upon  evil  days. 

From  hearing  oft  herself  discussed  with  praise, 
There  grew  within  her  heart  the  longing  rare 
To  see  herself ;  and  every  passing  air 

The  warm  desire  fanned  into  lusty  blaze. 

Full  oft  she  sought  this  end  by  devious  ways, 
But  sought  in  vain,  so  fell  she  in  despair. 

For  none  within  her  train  nor  by  her  side 
Could  solve  the  task  or  give  the  envied  boon. 
So  day  and  night,  beneath  the  sun  and  moon, 

She  wandered  to  and  fro  unsatisfied, 
Till  Art  came  by,  a  blithe  inventive  elf, 
And  made  a  glass  wherein  she  saw  herself. 

n. 

Enrapt,  the  queen  gazed  on  her  glorious  self, 

Then  trembling  with  the  thrill  of  sudden  thought, 
Commanded  that  the  skillful  wight  be  brought 

That  she  might  dower  him  with  lands  and  pelf. 

Then  out  upon  the  silent  sea-lapt  shelf 

And  up  the  hills  and  on  the  downs  they  sought 
Him  who  so  well  and  wondrously  had  wrought : 


MAJORS    AND   MINORS,  49 

And  with  much  search  found  and  brought  home  the  elf, 
But  he  put  by  all  gifts  with  sad  replies 

And  from  his  lips  these  words  flowed  forth  like  wine  : 
"  Oh,  queen,  I  want  no  gift  but  thee,"  he  said. 

She  heard  and  looked  on  him  with  love-lit  eyes, 

Gave  him  her  hand,  low  murmuring  :  "  I  am  thine," 
And  at  the  morrow's  dawning  they  were  wed. 


Premonition. 

Dear  heart,  good-night ! 
Nay,  list  awhile  that  sweet  voice  singing 

When  the  world  is  all  so  bright, 
And  the  sound  of  song  sets  the  heart  a-ringing, 
Oh,  love,  it  is  not  right — 

Not  then  to  say,  "  good-night. 

Dear  heart,  good-night ! 
The  late  winds  in  the  lake  weeds  shiver, 

And  the  spray  flies  cold  and  white. 
And  the  voice  that  sings  gives  a  tell-tale  quiver — 
"  Ah,  yes,  the  world  is  bright, 

But  dearest  heart,  good-night ! 

Dear  heart,  good-night ! 
And  do  not  seek  to  longer  hold  me  ! 

For  my  soul  is  in  affright 
As  the  fearful  glooms  in  their  pall  enfold  me. 
See  him  who  sang  how  white 

And  still,  so  dear,  good-night. 


50  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Dear  heart,  good-night ! 
Thy  hand  I'll  press  no  more  forever, 

And  mine  eyes  shall  lose  the  light  : 
For  the  great  white  wraith  by  the  winding  river 
Shall  check  my  steps  with  might. 
So,  dear,  good-night,  good-night ! 


(Dbe  for  ZtTemortal  Day. 

Done  are  the  toils  and  the  wearisome  marches, 

Done  is  the  summons  of  bugle  and  drum. 
Softly  and  sweetly,  the  sky  over-arches, 

Shelt'ring  a  land  where  Rebellion  is  dumb. 
Dark  were  the  days  of  the  country's  derangement, 

Sad  were  the  hours  when  the  conflict  was  on, 
But  through  the  gloom  of  fraternal  estrangement, 

God  sent  his  light,  and  we  welcome  the  dawn. 
O'er  the  expanse  of  our  mighty  dominions, 

Sweeping  away  to  the  uttermost  parts, 
Peace,  the  wide-flying,  on  untiring  pinions, 

Bringeth  her  message  of  joy  to  our  hearts. 

Ah,  but  this  joy  which  our  minds  cannot  measure, 

What  did  it  cost  for  our  fathers  to  gain ! 
Bought  at  the  price  of  the  heart's  dearest  treasure. 

Born  out  of  travail  and  sorrow  and  pain. 
Born  in  the  battle  where  fleet  Death  was  flying, 

Slaying  with  saber  stroke  bloody  and  fell : 
Born  where  the  heroes  and  martyrs  were  dying, 

Torn  by  the  fury  of  bullet  and  shell. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  51 

Ah,  but  the  day  is  past :  silent  the  rattle, 
And  the  confusion  that  followed  the  fight, 

Peace  to  the  heroes  who  died  in  the  battle, 
Martyrs  to  truth  and  the  crowning  of  Right ! 

Out  of  the  blood  of  a  conflict  fraternal, 

Out  of  the  dust  and  the  dimness  of  death, 
Burst  into  blossoms  of  glory  eternal, 

Flowers  that  startle  the  world  with  their  breath. 
Flowers  of  charity,  peace  and  devotion 

Bloom  in  the  hearts  that  are  empty  of  strife ; 
Love  that  is  boundless  and  broad  as  the  ocean 

Leaps  into  beauty  and  fullness  of  life. 
So  with  the  singing  of  pasans  and  chorals, 

And  with  the  flag  flashing  high  in  the  sun, 
Place  on  the  graves  of  our  heroes  the  laurels 

Which  their  unfaltering  valor  has  won  ! 


{Efye  Htsing  of  tfye  Storm. 

The  lake's  dark  breast 

Is  all  unrest, 
It  heaves  with  a  sob  and  a  sigh. 

Like  a  tremulous  bird, 

From  its  slumber  stirred, 
The  moon  is  a-tilt  in  the  sky. 


52  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

From  the  silent  deep 

The  waters  sweep, 
But  faint  on  the  cold  white  stones, 

And  the  wavelets  fly 

With  a  plaintive  cry 
O'er  the  old  earth's  bare,  bleak  bones. 

And  the  spray  upsprings 

On  its  ghost-white  wings 
And  tosses  a  kiss  at  the  stars  ; 

While  a  water  sprite, 

In  sea-pearls  dight 
Hums  a  sea  hymn's  solemn  bars. 

Far  out  in  the  night, 

On  the  wavering  sight 
I  see  a  dark  hull  loom  : 

And  its  light  on  high, 

Like  a  Cy clop's  eye 
Shines  out  through  the  mist  and  gloom. 

Now  the  winds  well  up 

From  the  earth's  deep  cup 
And  fall  on  the  sea  and  shore, 

And  against  the  pier 

The  waters  rear 
And  break  with  a  sullen  roar. 

Up  comes  the  gale, 
And  the  mist-wrought  veil 
Gives  way  to  the  lightning's  glare. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  53 

And  the  cloud-drifts  fall, 
A  sombre  pall 
O'er  water,  earth  and  air. 

The  storm-^king  flies, 

His  whip  he  plies 
And  bellows  down  the  wind. 

The  lightning  rash 

With  blinding  flash 
Comes  pricking  on  behind. 

Rise,  waters,  rise 

And  taunt  the  skies 
With  your  swift-flitting  form. 

Sweep,  wild  winds,  sweep 

And  tear  the  deep 
To  atoms  in  the  storm. 

And  the  waters  leapt, 

And  the  wild  winds  swept 
And  blew  out  the  moon  in  the  sky, 

And  I  laughed  with  glee, 

It  was  joy  to  me 
As  the  storm  went  raging  by  ! 


tTfye  XDtnb  an6  tfye  Sea. 

I  stood  by  the  shore  at  the  death  of  day, 

As  the  sun  sank  flaming  red  ; 
And  the  face  of  the  waters  that  spread  away 

Was  as  gray  as  the  face  of  the  dead. 


54  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

And  I  heard  the  cry  of  the  wanton  sea 
And  the  moan  of  the  wailing  wind  ; 

For  love's  sweet  pain  in  his  heart  had  he, 
But  the  gray  old  sea  had  sinned. 

The  wind  was  young  and  the  sea  was  old, 

But  their  cries  went  up  together ; 
The  wind  was  warm  and  the  sea  was  cold, 

For  age  makes  wintry  weether. 

So  they  cried  aloud  and  they  wept  amain, 

Till  the  sky  grew  dark  to  hear  it ; 
And  out  of  its  folds  crept  the  misty  rain, 

In  its  shroud,  like  a  troubled  spirit. 

For  the  wind  was  wild  with  a  hopeless  love, 

And  the  sea  was  sad  at  heart 
At  many  a  crime  that  he  wot  of, 

Wherein  he  had  played  his  part. 

He  thought  of  the  gallant  ships  gone  down 

By  the  will  of  his  wicked  waves  ; 
And  he  thought  how  the  church-yard  in  the  town 

Held  the  sea-made  widows'  graves. 

The  wild  wind  thought  of  the  love  he  had  left 

Afar  in  an  eastern  land,* 
And  he  longed,  as  long  the  much  bereft. 

For  the  touch  of  her  perfumed  hand. 


MAJORS    AND   MINORS.  55 

In  his  winding  wail  and  his  deep-heaved  sigh, 

His  aching  grief  found  vent ; 
While  the  sea  looked  up  at  the  bending  sky 

And  murmured  :  "  I  repent." 

But  e'en  as  he  spoke,  a  ship  came  by, 

That  bravely  ploughed  the  main, 
And  a  light  came  into  the  sea's  green  eye, 

And  his  heart  grew  hard  again. 

Then  he  spoke  to  the  wind  :  "  Friend,  seest  thou  not 

Yon  vessel  is  eastward  bound  ? 
Pray  speed  with  it  to  the  happy  spot 

Where  thy  loved  one  may  be  found.  " 

And  the  wind  rose  up  in  a  dear  delight, 

And  after  the  good  ship  sped  ; 
But  the  crafty  sea  by  his  wicked  might 

Kept  the  vessel  ever  ahead. 

Till  the  wind  grew  fierce  in  his  despair, 

And  white  on  the  brow  and  lip. 
He  tore  his  garments  and  tore  his  hair, 

And  fell  on  the  flying  ship. 

And  the  ship  went  down,  for  a  rock  was  there, 

And  the  sailless  sea  loomed  black  ; 
While  burdened  again  with  dole  and  care, 

The  wind  came  moaning  back. 


56  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

And  still  he  moans  from  his  bosom  hot 
Where  his  raging  grief  lies  pent, 

And  ever  when  the  ships  come  not, 
The  sea  says  :  "  I  repent." 


Passion  anb  £or>e. 


A  maidefi  wept  and,  as  a  comforter, 
Came  one  who  cried,  "  I  love  thee,"  and  he  seized 
Her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her  with  hot  breath, 
That  dried  the  tears  upon  her  flaming  cheeks. 
While  ever  more  his  boldly  blazing  eye 
Burned  into  hers  ;  but  she  uncomforted 
Shrank  from  his  arms  and  only  wept  the  more. 

Then  one  came  and  gazed  mutely  in  her  face 

With  wide  and  wistful  eyes  ;  but  still  aloof 

He  held  himself ;  as  with  a  reverent  fear, 

As  one  who  knows  some  sacred  presence  nigh. 

And  as  she  wept  he  mingled  tear  with  tear 

That  glad  her  soul  like  dew  a  dusty  flow'r, — 

Until  she  smiled,  approached  and  touched  his  hand! 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  57 


Ct  Borber  Ballab. 


Oh,  I  haven't  got  long  to  live,  for  we  all 

Die  soon,  e'en  those  who  live  longest ; 
And  the  poorest  and  weakest  are  taking  their  chance 

Along  with  the  richest  and  strongest. 
So  its  heigho  for  a  glass  and  a  song, 

And  a  bright  eye  over  the  table, 
And  a  dog  for  the  hunt  when  the  game  is  flush, 

And  the  pick  of  a  gentleman's  stable. 

There  is  Dimmock  o'  Dune,  he  was  here  yesternight, 

But  he's  rotting  to-day  on  Glen  Arragh  ; 
'Twas  the  hand  o'  MacPherson  that  gave  him  the  blow, 

And  the  vultures  shall  feast  on  his  marrow. 
But  its  heigho  for  a  brave  old  song 

And  a  glass  while  we  are  able  ; 
Here's  a  health  to  death  and  another  cup 

To  the  bright  eye  over  the  table. 

I  can  show  a  broad  back  and  a  jolly  deep  chest, 

But  who  argues  now  on  appearance  ? 
A  blow  or  a  thrust  or  a  stumble  at  best 

May  send  me  to-day  to  my  clearance. 
Then  its  heigho  for  the  things  I  love, 

My  mother  '11  be  soon  wearing  sable, 
But  give  me  my  horse  and  my  dog  and  my  glass, 

And  a  bright  eye  over  the  table. 


58  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 


3f. 


If  life  were  but  a  dream,  my  Love, 

And  death  the  waking  time  ; 

If  day  had  not  a  beam,  my  Love, 

And  night  had  not  a  rhyme  ; 

A  barren,  barren  world  were  this 
Without  one  saving  gleam 
I'd  only  ask  that  with  a  kiss 
You'd  wake  me  from  the  dream. 

If  dreaming  were  the  sum  of  days, 

And  loving  were  the  bane  ; 
If  battling  for  a  wreath  of  bays 
Could  sooth  a  heart  in  pain  ; 

I'd  scorn  the  meed  of  battle's  might, 
All  other  aims  above 
I'd  choose  the  human's  higher  right, 
To  suffer  and  to  love ! 


Ct  Corn-Song. 

On  the  wide  veranda  white, 

In  the  purple  failing  light, 

Sits  the  master  while  the  sun  is  lowly  burning ; 

And  his  dreamy  thoughts  are  drowned 

In  the  softly  flowing  sound 

Of  the  corn-songs  of  the  field-hands  slow  returning. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  59 

Oh  we  hoe  de  co'n 
Since  de  ehly  mo'n 
Now  de  sinkin'  sun 
Says  de  day  is  done. 

O'er  the  fields  with  heavy  tread, 

Light  of  heart  and  high  of  head — 

Tho'  the  halting  steps  be  labored,  slow  and  weary ; 

Still  the  spirits  brave  and  strong 

Find  a  comforter  in  song, 

And  their  corn-song  rises  ever  loud  and  cheery. 

Song — 

To  the  master  in  his  seat, 

Comes  the  burden  full  and  sweet 

Of  the  mellow  minor  music  growing  clearer  ; 

As  the  toilers  raise  the  hymn, 

Thro'  the  silence  dusk  and  dim, 

To  the  cabin's  restful  shelter  drawing  nearer. 

Song — 

And  a  tear  is  in  the  eye 

Of  the  master  sitting  by, 

As  he  listens  to  the  echoes  low-replying 

To  the  music's  fading  calls 

As  it  faints  away  and  falls 

Into  silence,  deep  within  the  cabin  dying. 

Song. 


60  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 


Retrospection. 

When  you  and  I  were  young,  the  days 
Were  filled  with  scent  of  pink  and  rose, 
And  full  of  joy  from  dawn  till  close, 

From  morning's  mist  till  evening's  haze. 
And  when  the  robin  sung  his  song 
The  verdant  woodland  ways  along, 
We  whistled  louder  than  he  sung. 

And  school  was  joy,  and  work  was  sport 

For  which  the  hours  were  all  too  short, 
When  you  and  I  were  young,  my  boy, 
When  you  and  I  were  young. 

When  you  and  I  were  young,  the  woods 
Brimmed  bravely  o'er  with  every  joy 
To  charm  the  happy-hearted  boy. 

The  quail  turned  out  her  timid  broods  ; 
The  prickly  copse,  a  hostess  fine, 
Held  high  black  cups  of  harmless  wine  ; 
And  low  the  laden  grape-vine  swung 

With  beads  of  night  kissed  amethyst 

Where  buzzing  lovers  held  their  tryst, 
When  you  and  I  were  young,  my  boy, 
When  you  and  I  were  young. 

When  you  and  I  were  young,  the  cool 
And  fresh  wind  fanned  our  fevered  brows 
When  tumbling  o'er  the  scented  mows, 

Or  stripping  by  the  dimpling  pool, 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  61 

Sedge-fringed  nfeout  its  shimmering  face, 
Save  where  we'd  worn  an  ent'ring  place. 

How  with  our  shouts  the  calm  banks  rung ! 
How  flashed  the  spray  as  we  plunged  in — 
Pure  gems  that  never  caused  a  sin ! 
When  you  and  I  were  young,  my  boy, 
When  you  and  I  were  young. 

When  you  and  I  were  young,  we  heard 

All  sounds  of  Nature  with  delight, 

The  whirr  of  wing  in  sudden  flight, 
The  chirping  of  the  baby-bird. 

The  columbine's  red  bells  were  rung ; 

The  locust's  vested  chorus  sung  ; 

While  every  wind  his  zithern  strung 
To  high  and  holy-sounding  keys, 
And  played  sonatas  in  the  trees — 

When  you  and  I  were  young,  my  boy, 
When  you  and  I  were  young. 

When  you  and  I  were  young,  we  knew 
To  shout  and  laugh,  to  work  and  play, 
And  night  was  partner  to  the  day 

In  all  our  joys.  So  swift  time  flew 
On  silent  wings  that,  ere  we  wist, 
The  fleeting  years  had  fled  unmissed  ; 

And  from  our  hearts  this  cry  was  wrung — 

To  fill  with  fond  regret  and  tears, 

The  days  of  our  remaining  years — 

"  When  you  and  I  were  young,  my  boy, 
When  you  and  I  were  young." 


62  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 


Hot  Cfyey  tDfyo  Soar. 

Not  they  who  soar,  but  they  who  plod 
Their  rugged  way,  unhelped  to  God 
Are  heroes  ;  they  who  higher  fare, 
And  flying,  fan  the  upper  air, 
Miss  all  the  toil  that  hugs  the  sod. 
'Tis  they  whose  backs  have  felt  the  rod, 
Whose  feet  have  pressed  the  path,  unshod, 
May  smile  upon  defeated  care, 
Not  they  who  soar. 

High  up  there  are  no  thorns  to  prod, 
Nor  boulders  lurking  'neath  the  clod 
To  turn  the  keenness  of  the  share  ; 
For  flight  is  ever  free  and  rare  ; 
But  heroes,  they  the  soil  who've  trod, 
Not  they  who  soar! 


An  old,  worn  harp  that  had  been  play'd, 
Till  all  its  strings  were  loose  and  fray'd. 
Joy,  Hate  and  Fear,  each  one  essay'd 
To  play.     But  each  in  turn  had  found 
No  sweet  responsiveness  of  sound. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  63 

Then  Love  the  Master- Player  came 
With  heaving  breast  and  eyes  aflame  ; 
The  Harp  he  took  all  undismayed, 
Smote  on  its  strings,  still  strange  to  song. 
And  brought  forth  music  sweet  and  strong. 


Ctfter  tfye  Quarrel. 

So  we,  who've  supped  the  self-same  cup, 

To-night  must  lay  our  friendship  by  ; 
Your  wrath  has  burned  your  judgment  up, 

Hot  breath  has  blown  the  ashes  high. 
You  say  that  you  are  wronged — ah,  well, 

I  count  that  friendship  poor  at  best — 
A  bauble,  a  mere  bagatelle, 

That  cannot  stand  so  slight  a  test. 

I  fain  would  still  have  been  your  friend 

And  talked  and  laughed  and  loved  with  you, 
But  since  it  must,  why,  let  it  end  ; 

The  false  but  dies,  'tis  not  the  true. 
So  we  are  favored,  you  and  I, 

Who  only  want  the  living  truth. 
It  was  not  good  to  nurse  the  lie  ; 

'Tis  well  it  died  in  harmless  youth. 

I  go  from  you  to-night  to  sleep. 

Why,  what's  the  odds  ?  why  should  I  grieve  ? 
I  have  no  fund  of  tears  to  weep 

For  happenings  that  undeceive. 


64  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

The  days  shall  come,  the  days  shall  go 
Just  as  they  came  and  went  before. 

The  sun  shall  shine,  the  streams  shall  flow 
Tho'  you  and  I  are  friends  no  more. 

And  in  the  volume  of  my  years, 

Where  all  my  thoughts  and  acts  shall  be, 
The  page  whereon  your  name  appears 

Shall  be  forever  sealed  to  me. 
Not  that  I  hate  you  over-much, 

'Tis  less  of  hate  than  love  defied  ; 
Howe'er,  our  hands  no  more  shall  touch. 

We'll  go  our  ways,  the  world  is  wide. 


Urtexpresseb. 

Deep  in  my  heart  that  aches  with  the  repression, 
And  strives  with  plenitude  of  bitter  pain, 

There  lives  a  thought  that  clamors  for  expression, 
And  spends  its  undelivered  force  in  vain. 

What  boots  it  that  some  other  may  have  thought  it  ? 

The  right  of  thoughts'  expression  is  divine  ; 
The  price  of  pain  I  pay  for  it  has  bought  it, 

I  care  not  who  lays  claim  to  it — 'tis  mine ! 

And  yet  not  mine  until  it  be  delivered ; 

The  manner  of  its  birth  shall  prove  the  test. 
Alas,  alas,  my  rock  of  pride  is  shivered-— 

I  beat  my  brow — the  thought  still  unexpressed 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  65 


<£re  Sleep  Comes  Doom  to  Sootfye  tfye  IDeary  (Eyes, 


Ere  sleep  comes  down  to  soothe  the  weary  eyes, 

Which  all  the  day  with  ceaseless  care  have  sought 
The  magic  gold  which  from  the  seeker  flies  ; 

Ere  dreams  put  on  the  gown  and  cap  of  thought, 
And  make  the  waking  world 'a  world  of  lies — 

Of  lies  most  palpable,  uncouth,  forlorn, 
That  say  life  full  of  aches  and  tears  and  sighs ; 

Oh,  how  with  more  than  dreams  the  soul  is  torn — 
Ere  sleep  comes  down  to  soothe  the  weary  eyes. 

Ere  sleep  comes  down  to  soothe  the  weary  eyes, 

How  all  the  griefs  and  heartaches  we  have  known 
Come  up  like  pois'nous  vapors  that  arise 

From  some  base  witch's  cauldron,  when  the  crone 
To  work  some  potent  spell,  her  magic  plies. 

The  past  which  held  its  share  of  bitter  pain, 
Whose  ghost  we  prayed  that  Time  might  exorcise, 

Comes  up,  is  lived  and  suffered  o'er  again, 
Ere  sleep  comes  down  to  soothe  the  weary  eyes. 

Ere  sleep  comes  down  to  soothe  the  weary  eyes, 
What  phantoms  fill  the  dimly  lighted  room  ; 

What  ghostly  shades  in  awe-creating  guise 
Are  bodied  forth  within  the  teeming  gloom. 

What  echoes  faint  of  sad  and  soul-sick  cries, 


66  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

And  pangs  of  vague  indefinable  pain 
That  pay  the  spirit's  ceaseless  enterprise, 

Come  thronging  thro'  the  chambers  of  the  brain> 
Ere  sleep  comes  down  to  soothe  the  weary  eyes. 

Ere  sleep  comes  down  to  soothe  the  weary  eyes, 

Where  ranges  forth  the  spirit  far  and  free  ? 
Thro'  what  strange  realms  and  unfamiliar  skies 

Tends  her  far  course  to  lands  of  mystery  ? 
To  lands  unspeakable — beyond  surmise, 

Where  shapes  unknowable  to  being  spring, 
Till  faint  of  wing,  the  Fancy  fails  and  dies 

Much  wearied  with  the  spirit's  journeying, 
Ere  sleep  comes  down  to  soothe  the  weary  eyes. 

Ere  sleep  comes  down  to  soothe  the  weary  eyes, 

How  questioneth  the  soul  that  other  soul — 
The  inner  sense  which  neither  cheats  nor  lies. 

But  self  exposes  unto  self,  a  scroll 
Full  writ  with  all  life's  acts  unwise  or  wise, 

In  characters  indelible  and  known  ; 
So,  trembling  with  the  shock  of  sad  surprise, 

The  soul  doth  view  its  awful  self  alone, 
Ere  sleep  comes  down  to  soothe  the  weary  eyes. 

When  sleep  comes  down  to  seal  the  weary  eyes, 
The  last  dear  sleep  whose  soft  embrace  is  balm, 

And  whom  sad  sorrow  teaches  us  to  prize 
For  kissing  all. our  passions  into  calm, 

Ah  then,  no  more  we  heed  the  sad  world's  cries, 


MAJOES    AND    MINORS.  67 

Or  seek  to  probe  th'  eternal  mystery, 
Or  fret  our  souls  at  long  withheld  replies, 

At  glooms  thro'  which  our  visions  cannot  see, 
When  sleep  comes  down  to  seal  the  weary  eyes. 


Ct  Starry 


A  cloud  fell  down  from  the  heavens, 
And  broke  on  the  mountain's  brow 

It  scattered  the  dusky  fragments 
All  over  the  vale  below. 

The  moon  and  the  stars  were  anxious 
To  know  what  its  fate  might  be  ; 

So  they  rushed  to  the  azure  op'ning, 
And  all  peered  down  to  see. 


tTfye  Cesson. 

My  cot  was  down  by  a  cypress  grove, 

And  I  sat  by  my  window  the  whole  night  long, 
And  heard  well  up  from  the  deep  dark  wood 

A  mocking  bird's  passionate  song. 

And  I  thought  of  myself  so  sad  and  lone, 

And  my  life's  cold  winter  that  knew  no  spring  ; 

Of  my  mind  so  weary  and  sick  and  wild, 
Of  my  heart  too  sad  to  sing. 


68  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

But  e'en  as  I  listened  the  mock-bird's  song, 
A  thought  stole  into  my  saddened  heart, 

And  I  said,  "  I  can  cheer  some  other  soul 
By  a  carol's  simple  art. 

For  oft  from  the  darkness  of  hearts  and  lives 
Come  songs  that  brim  with  joy  and  light, 

As  out  of  the  gloom  of  the  cypress  grove 
The  mocking-bird  sings  at  night. 

So  I  sang  a  lay  for  a  brother's  ear 

In  a  strain  to  soothe  his  bleeding  heart, 

And  he  smiled  at  the  sound  of  my  voice  and  lyre, 
Tho'  mine  was  a  feeble  art. 

But  at  his  smile,  I  smiled  in  turn 
And  into  my  soul  there  came  a  ray  : 

In  trying  to  soothe  another's  woes 
Mine  own  had  passed  away. 


DatDn. 


An  angel,  robed  in  spotless  white, 
Bent  down  and  kissed  the  sleeping  Night. 
Night  woke  to  blush  ;  the  sprite  was  gone. 
Men  saw  the  blush  and  called  it  Dawn. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  69 


CI  Cyrtc. 

My  lady  love  lives  far  away, 
And  oh  my  heart  is  sad  by  day, 
•And  ah  my  tears  fall  fast  by  night, 
What  may  I  do  in  such  a  plight. 

Why,  miles  grow  few  when  love  is  fleet, 
And  love,  you  know,  hath  flying  feet  : 
Break  oif  thy  sighs  and  witness  this, 
How  poor  a  thing  mere  distance  is. 

My  love  knows  not  I  love  her  so, 
And  would  she  scorn  me,  did  she  know  ? 
How  may  the  tale  I  would  impart 
Attract  her  ear  and  storm  her  heart  ? 

Calm  thou  the  tempest  in  thy  breast, 
Who  loves  in  silence  loves  the  best, 
But  bide  thy  time,  she  will  awake, 
No  night  so  dark  but  morn  will  break. 

But  tho'  my  heart  so  strongly  yearn, 
My  lady  loves  me  not  in  turn, 
How  may  I  win  the  blest  reply 
That  my  void  heart  shall  satisfy. 

Love  breedeth  love,  be  thou  but  tru  e, 
And  soon  thy  Love  shall  love  thee,  too  ; 
If  Fate  hath  meant  you  heart  for  heart, 
There's  naught  may  keep  you  twain  apart. 


70  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 


Phyllis,  ah,  Phyllis,  my  life  is  a  gray  day, 
Few  are  my  years,  but  my  griefs  are  not  few, 

Ever  to  youth  should  each  day  be  a  May-day, 

Warm  wind  and  rose-breath  and  diamonded  dew — 

Phyllis,  ah,  Phyllis,  my  life  is  a  gray  day. 

Otf  for  the  sunlight  that  shines  on  a  May-day  ; 

Only  the  cloud  hangeth  over  my  life. 
Love  that  should  bring  me  youth's  happiest  hey-day, 

Brings  me  but  seasons  of  borrow  and  strife ; 
Phyllis,  ah,  Phyllis,  my  life  is  a  gray  day. 

Sunshine  or  shadow,  or  gold  day  or  gray  day, 
Life  must  be  lived  as  our  destinies  rule ; 

Leisure  or  labor  or  work  day  or  play  day — 
Feasts  for  the  famous  and  fun  for  the  fool ; 

Phyllis,  ah,  Phyllis,  my  life  is  a  gray  day. 

Htgfyt's  Security. 

What  if  the  wind  do  howl  without, 
And  turn  the  creaking  weather-vane  ; 
What  if  the  arrows  of  the  rain 
Do  beat  against  the  window  pane. 
Art  thou  not  armored  strong  and  fast 
Against  the  sallies  of  the  blast  ? 
Art  thou  not  sheltered  safe  and  well 
Against  the  flood's  insistent  swell  ? 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  71 

What  boots  it,  that  thou  stand'st  alone, 
And  laughest  in  the  battle's  face 
When  all  the  weak  have  fled  the  place 
And  let  their  feet  and  fears  keep  pace  ? 
Thou  wavest  still  thine  ensign,  high, 
And  shoutest  thy  loud  battle  cry ; 
Higher  than  e'er  the  tempest  roared, 
It  cleaves  the  silence  like  a  sword. 

Right  arms  and  armors  too,  that  man 
Who  will  not  compromise  with  wrong ; 
Tho'  single  he  must  front  the  throng, 
And  wage  the  battle  hard  and  long. 
Minorities,  since  time  began, 
Have  shown  the  better  side  of  man  ; 
And  often  in  the  lists  of  Time, 
One  man  has  made  a  cause  sublime ! 


015. 

I  have  seen  peoples  come  and  go 
Alike  the  Ocean's  ebb  and  flow  ; 
I  have  seen  kingdoms  rise  and  fall 
Like  springtime  shadows  on  a  wall. 
I  have  seen  houses  rendered  great 
That  grew  from  life's  debased  estate, 
And  all,  all,  all  is  change  I  see, 
So,  dearest  God,  take  me,  take  me. 


72  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 


§om  Sfyail  3  IDoo 

How  shall  I  woo  thee  to  win  the,  mine  own  ? 

Say  in  what  tongue  shall  I  tell  of  my  love. 
I  who  was  fearless  so  timid  have  grown, 

All  that  was  eagle  has  turned  into  dove. 
The  path  from  the  meadow  that  leads  to  the  bars 
Is  more  to  me  now  than  the  path  of  the  stars. 

How  shall  I  woo  thee  to  win  thee,  mine  own, 
Thou  who  art  fair  and  as  far  as  the  moon  ? 

Had  I  the  strength  of  the  torrent's  wild  tone, 
Had  I  the  sweetness  of  warblers  in  June ; 

The   strength   and   the   sweetness   might   charm   and 
persuade, 

But  neither  have  I  my  petition  to  aid. 

How  shall  I  woo  thee  to  win  thee,  mine  own  ? 

How  shall  I  traverse  the  distance  between 
My  humble  cot  and  your  glorious  throne  ? 

How  shall  a  clown  gain  the  ear  of  a  queen  ? 
Oh  teach  me  the  tongue  that  shall  please  thee  the  best, 
For  till  I  have  won  thee  my  heart  may  not  rest. 

Ct  Summer's  Icigfyt. 

The  night  is  dewy  as  a  maiden's  mouth, 
The  skies  are  bright  as  are  a  maiden's  eyes, 
Soft  as  a  maiden's  breath,  the  wind  that  flies 

Up  from  the  perfumed  bosom  of  the  South. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  73 

Like  sentinels,  the  pines  stand  in  the  park  ; 
And  hither  hastening  like  rakes  that  roam, 
With  lamps  to  light  their  wayward  footsteps  home, 

The  fire- flies  come  stagg'ring  down  the  dark. 


Song. 

My  heart  to  thy  heart, 

My  hand  to  thine  ; 
My  lips  to  thy  lips, 

Kisses  are  wine 

Brewed  for  the  lover  in  sunshine  and  shade, 
Let  me  drink  deep  then,  my  African  maid. 

Lily  to  lily, 

Rose  unto  rose ; 
My  love  to  thy  love 

Tenderly  grows. 

Rend  not  the  oak  and  the  ivy  in  twain, 
Nor  the  swart  maid  from  her  swarthier  swain. 


0ne  £tfe. 

Oh,  I  am  hurt  to  death,  my  Love, 

The  shafts  of  Fate  have  pierced  my  striving  heart, 
And  I  am  sick  and  weary  of 

The  endless  pain  and  smart. 
My  soul  is  weary  of  the  strife 
And  chafes  at  life,  and  chafes  at  life. 


74  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Time  mocks  me  with  fair  promises  ; 

A  blooming  future  grows  a  barren  past, 
Like  rain  my  fair  full-blossomed  trees 

Unburden  in  the  blast. 
The  harvest  fails  on  grain  and  tree, 
Nor  comes  to  me,  nor  comes  to  me. 

The  stream  that  bears  my  hopes  abreast 
Turns  ever  from  my  way  its  pregnant  tide. 

My  laden  boat,  torn  from  its  rest, 
Drifts  to  the  other  side. 

So  all  my  hopes  are  set  astray, 

And  drift  away,  and  drift  away. 

The  lark  sings  to  me  at  the  morn, 

And  near  me  wings  her  skyward  soaring  flight ; 
But  pleasure  dies  as  soon  as  born  ; 

The  owl  takes  up  the  night, 
And  night  seems  long  and  doubly  dark  ; 
I  miss  the  lark,  I  miss  the  lark. 

Let  others  labor  as  they  may, 

I'll  sing  and  sigh  alone  and  write  my  line. 
Their  fate  is  theirs,  or  grave  or  gay, 

And  mine  shall  still  be  mine, 
I  know  the  world  holds  joy  and  glee, 
But  not  for  me — 'tis  not  for  me. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  75 

3f  3  Couib  But  forget. 

If  1  could  but  forget 
The  fullness  of  those  first  sweet  days, 
When  you  burst  sun-like  thro'  the  haze 
Of  unacquaintance,  on  my  sight, 
And  made  the  wet,  gray  day  seem  bright 
While  clouds  themselves  grew  fair  to  see. 

And  since,  no  day  is  gray  or  wet, 
But  all  the  scene  comes  back  to  me, 

If  I  could  but  forget. 

If  I  could  but  forget 
How  your  dusk  eyes  look  into  mine, 
And  how  I  thrilled  as  with  strong  wine 
Beneath  your  touch  ;  while  sped  amain 
The  quickened  stream  thro'  ev'ry  vein  ; 
How  near  my  breath  fell  to  a  gasp, 

When  for  a  space  our  fingers  met 
In  one  electric  vibrant  clasp, 

If  I  could  but  forget. 

If  I  could  but  forget 
The  months  of  passion  and  of  pain, 
And  all  that  followed  in  their  train — 
Rebellious  thoughts  that  would  arise, 
Rebellious  tears  that  dimmed  mine  eyes, 
The  prayers  that  I  might  set  love's  fire 

Aflame  within  your  bosom  yet — 
The  death  at  last  of  that  desire — 

If  I  could  but  forget. 


76  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

3npitatton  to  £or>e. 

Come  when  the  nights  are  bright  with  stars, 

Or  when  the  moon  is  mellow  ; 
Come  when  the  Sun  his  golden  bars 

Drops  on  the  hay-field  mellow. 
Come  in  the  twilight  soft  and  gray, 
Come  in  the  night  or  come  in  the  day, 
Come,  oh  Love,  whene'er  you  may, 
And  you  are  welcome,  welcome. 

You  are  sweet,  oh  love,  dear  Love, 

You  are  soft  as  the  nesting, dove, 

Come  to  my  heart  and  bring  it  rest 

As  the  bird  flies  home  to  its  welcome  nest. 

Come  when  my  heart  is  full  of  grief, 

Or  when  my  heart  is  merry  ; 
Come  with  the  falling  of  the  leaf, 

Or  with  the  redd'ning  cherry. 
Come  when  the  year's  first  blossom  blows, 
Come  when  the  summer  gleams  and  glows, 
Come  with  the  winter's  drifting  snows 

And  you  are  welcome,  welcome. 

Cl  Prayer. 

Oh  Lord,  the  hard  won  miles 
Have  worn  my  stumbling  feet ; 

Oh  soothe  me  with  thy  smiles 
And  make  my  life  complete. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  77 

The  thorns  were  thick  and  keen 

Where'er  I  trembling  trod  ; 
The  way  was  long  between 

My  wounded  feet  and  God. 


When  storms  arise 

And  dark'ning  skies 

About  me  threat'ning  lower  ; 

To  Thee,  oh  Lord,  I  raise  mine  eyes, 

To  Thee  my  tortured  spirit  flies 

For  solace  in  that  hour. 

Thy  mighty  arm 
Will  let  no  harm 
Come  near  me  nor  befall  me  ; 
Thy  voice  shall  quiet  my  alarm, 
When  life's  great  battle  waxeth  warm- 
No  foeman  shall  appall  me. 

Upon  thy  breast 

Secure  I  rest, 

From  sorrow  and  vexation  ; 

No   more  by  sinful  cares  oppressed, 

But  in  thy  presence  ever  blest, 

Oh  God  of  my  salvation. 


78  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 


HtMng  to 


When  labor  is  light  and  the  morning  is  fair, 
I  find  it  a  pleasure  beyond  all  compare 
To  hitch  up  my  nag  and  go  hurrying  down 
And  take  Katie  May  for  a  ride  into  town  ; 
For  bumpety-bump  goes  the  wagon, 

But  tra-la-la-la  our  lay, 
There's  joy  in  a  song  as  we  rattle  along 
In  the  light  of  the  glorious  day. 

A  coach  would  be  fine,  but  a  spring  wagon's  good  ; 
My  jeans  is  a  match  for  Kate's  gingham  and  hood  ; 
The  hills  take  us  up  and  the  vales  take  us  down, 
But  what  matters  that  !  we  are  riding  to  town, 
And  bumpety-bump  goes  the  wagon, 

But  tra-la-la-la  sing  we. 
There's  never  a  care  may  live  in  the  air 
That  is  filled  with  the  breath  of  our  glee. 

And  after  we've  started,  there's  naught  can  repress 
The  thrill  of  our  hearts  in  their  wild  happiness  ; 
The  heavens  may  smile  or  the  heavens  may  frown, 
And  its  all  one  to  us  when  we're  riding  to  town. 
For  bumpety-bump  goes  the  wagon, 

But  tra-la-la-la  we  shout, 
For  our  hearts  they  are  clear  and  there's  nothing 

to  fear, 
And  we've  never  a  pain  nor  a  doubt. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  79 

The  wagon  is  weak  and  the  roadway  is  rough, 
And  tho'  it  is  long  it  is  not  long  enough, 
For  'mid  all  my  ecstacies  this  is  the  crown 
To  sit  beside  Katie  and  ride  into  town, 
When  bumpety-bump  goes  the  wagon, 

But  tra-la-la-la  our  song, 
And  if  I  had  my  way — I'd  be  willing  to  pay 
If  the  road  could  be  made  twice  as  long. 


<8oob 


The  lark  is  silent  in  his  nest, 

The  breeze  is  sighing  in  its  flight, 

Sleep  Love  and  peaceful  be  thy  rest, 

Good  night  my  love,  good  night,  good  night. 

Sweet  dreams  attend  thee  in  the  sleep, 
To  soothe  thy  rest  till  morning's  light, 

And  angels  round   you  vigil  keep 

Good  night  my  love,  good  night,  good  night. 

Sleep  well  my  love  on  night's  dark  breast, 
And  ease  thy  soul  with  slumber  bright ; 

Be  joy  but  thine  and  I  am  blest 

Good  night  my  love,  good  night,  good  night. 


80  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 


a  lice. 

Know  you  winds  that  blow  your  course 

Down  the  verdant  valleys, 
That  somewhere  you  must,  perforce, 

Kiss  the  brow  of  Alice  ? 
When  her  gentle  face  you  find, 
Kiss  it  softly,  naughty  wind. 

Roses  waving  fair  and  sweet 

Thro'  the  garden  alleys, 
Grow  into  a  glory  meet 

For  the  eye  of  Alice  ; 
Let  the  wind  your  offering  bear 
Of  sweet  perfume,  faint  and  rare. 

Lily  holding  crystal  dew 
In  your  pure  white  chalice, 

Nature  kind  hath  fashioned  you 
Like  the  soul  of  Alice  ; 

It  of  purest  white  is  wrought, 

Filled  with  gems  of  crystal  thought. 


Ballab. 

I  know  my  love  is  true, 

And  oh  the  day  is  fair, 
The  sky  is  clear  and  blue, 
The  flowers  are  rich  of  hue, 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  81 

The  air  I  breathe  is  rare, 
I  have  no  grief  or  care  ; 
For  my  own  love  is  true, 
And  oh  the  day  is  fair. 

My  love  is  false  I  find, 

And  oh  the  day  is  dark. 
Blows  sadly  down  the  wind, 
While  sorrow  holds  my  mind  ; 

I  do  not  hear  the  lark, 

For  quenched  is  life's  dear  spark — 
My  love  is  false  I  find, 

And  oh  the  day  is  dark  ! 

For  love  doth  make  the  day 

Or  dark  or  doubly  bright ; 
Her  beams  along  the  way 
Dispel  the  gloom  and  gray. 

She  lives  and  all  is  bright, 

She  dies  and  life  is  night. 
For  love  doth  make  the  day, 

Or  dark  or  doubly  bright. 


£fye  ZHystery. 

I  was  not ;  now  I  am — a  few  days  hence, 
I  shall  not  be  ;  I  fain  would  look  before 
And  after,  but  can  neither  do  ;  some  Pow'r 
Or  lack  of  pow'r  says  "  no  "  to  all  I  would. 


82  MAJORS    AND   MINORS. 

I  stand  upon  a  wide  and  sunless  plain, 
Nor  chart  nor  steel  to  guide  my  steps  aright. 
Whene'er,  o'ercoming  fear,  I  dare  to  move, 
I  grope  without  direction  and  by  chance. 
Some  feign  to  hear  a  voice  and  feel  a  hand 
That  draws  them  ever  upward  thro'  the  gloom. 
But  I — I  hear  no  voice  and  touch  no  hand, 
Tho'  oft  thro'  silence  infinite,  I  list, 
And  strain  my  hearing  to  supernal  sounds  ; 
Tho'  oft  thro'  fateful  darkness  do  I  reach, 
And  stretch  my  hand  to  find  that  other  hand. 
I  question  of  th'  eternal  bending  skies 
That  seem  to  neighbor  with  the  novice  earth  ; 
But  they  roll  on  and  daily  shut  their  eyes 
On  me,  as  I  one  day  shall  do  on  them, 
And  tell  me  not  the  secret  that  I  ask. 


Promise. 


I  grew  a  rose  within  a  garden  fair 
And  tending  it,  with  more  than  loving  care, 
I  thought  how,  with  the  glory  of  its  bloom, 
I  should  the  darkness  of  my  life  illume ; 
And  watching,  ever  smiled  to  see  the  lusty  bud, 
Drink  freely  in  the  summer  sun  to  tinct  its  blood. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  83 

My  rose  began  to  open,  and  its  hue 
Was  sweet  to  me  as  to  it,  sun  and  dew  ; 
I  watched  it  taking  on  its  ruddy  flame 
Until  the  day  of  perfect  blooming  came, 
Then,  hasted  I  with  smiles,  to  find  it  blushing  red — 
Too  late !    Some    thoughtless    child   had  plucked  my 
rose  and  fled ! 


^uiftiiment. 


I  grew  a  rose  once  more  to  please  mine  eyes. 
All  things  to  aid  it,  dew,  sun,  wind,  fair  skies 
Were  kindly  ;    and  to  shield  it  from  despoil, 
I  fenced  it  safely  in  with  grateful  toil. 
No  other  hand  than  mine  shall  pluck  this  flower  said  I, 
And  I  was  jealous  of  the  bee  that  hovered  nigh. 

It  grew  for  days,  I  stood  hour  after  hour 
To  watch  the  slow  unfolding  of  the  flow'r. 
And  then  I  did  not  leave  its  side  at  all, 
Lest  some  mischance,  my  flower  should  befall. 

At  last,  Oh  joy  !  the  central  petals  burst  apart. 

It  blossomed — but  alas  !  a  worm  was  at  its  heart ! 


84  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 


Preparation. 

The  little  bird  sits  in  the  nest  and  sings 
A  shy,  soft  song  to  the  morning  light ; 
And  it  nutters  a  little  and  prunes  its  wings. 
The  song  is  halting  and  poor  and  brief, 
And  the  fluttering  wings  scarce  stir  a  leaf ; 
But  the  note  is  a  prelude  to  sweeter  things, 
And  the  busy  bill  and  the  flutter  slight 
Are  proving  the  wings  for  a  bolder  flight ! 


Hetort. 


"  Thou  art  a  fool,"  said  my  head  to  my  heart, 
"  Indeed,  the  greatest  of  fools,  thou  art 

To  be  led  astray  by  the  trick  of  a  tress, 
By  a  smiling  face  or  a  ribbon  smart." 

And  my  heart  was  in  sore  distress. 

Then  Phyllis  came  by,  and  her  face  was  fair, 
The  light  gleamed  soft  on  her  raven  hair  ; 

And  her  lips  were  blooming  a  rosy  red. 
Then  my  heart  spoke  out  with  a  right  bold  air ; 

"  Thou  art  worse  than  a  fool,  Oh  head  !" 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  85 


Disappointed 

An  old  man  planted  and  dug  and  tended, 

Toiling  in  joy  from  dew  to  dew  : 
The  Sun  was  kind  and  the  rain  befriended  : 

Fine  grew  his  orchard  and  fair  to  view. 
Then  he  said  :  u  I  will  quiet  my  thrifty  fears, 
For  here  is  fruit  for  my  failing  years." 

But  even  then  the  storm-clouds  gathered, 

Swallowing  up  the  azure  sky  ; 
The  sweeping  winds  into  white  foam  lathered 

The  placid  breast  of  the  bay,  hard  by  ; 
Then  the  spirits  that  raged  in  the  darkened  air 
Swept  o'er  his  orchard  and  left  it  bare. 

The  old  man  stood  in  the  rain,  uncaring, 
Viewing  the  place  the  storm  had  swept ; 

And  then  with  a  cry  from  his  soul  despairing, 
He  bowed  him  down  to  the  earth,  and  wept. 

But  a  voice  cried  aloud  from  the  driving  rain  : 

"Arise,  old  man,  and  plant  again !" 


£fye  Song. 

My  soul,  lost  in  the  music's  mist, 
Roamed,  rapt  'neath  skies  of  amethyst. 
The  cheerless  streets  grew  summer  meads, 
The  Son  of  Phoebus  spurred  his  steeds, 


86  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

And  wand'ring  down  the  mazy  tune, 
December  lost  its  way  in  June, 
While  from  a  verdant  vale  I  heard 
The  piping  of  a  love-lorn  bird. 

A  something  in  the  tender  strain 
Revived  an  old,  long-conquered  pain 
And  as  in  depths  of  many  seas, 
My  heart  was  drowned  in  memories. 
The  tears  came  welling  to  my  eyes, 
Nor  could  I  ask  it  otherwise  ; 
For,  oh  !  a  sweetness  seems  to  last 
Amid  the  dregs  of  sorrows  past. 

It  stirred  a  chord  that  here  of  late 
I'd  grown  to  think  could  not  vibrate. 
It  brought  me  back  the  trust  of  youth, 
The  world  again  was  joy  and  truth. 
And  A  vice,  blooming  like  a  bride, 
Once  more  stood  trusting  at  my  side. 
But  still  with  bosom  desolate, 
The  'lorn  bird  sang  to  find  his  mate. 

Then  there  are  trees,  and  lights  and  stars, 
The  silv'ry  tinkle  of  guitars  ; 
And  throbs  again  as  throbbed  that  waltz, 
Before  I  knew  that  hearts  were  false. 
Then  like  a  cold  wave  on  a  shore, 
Comes  silence  and  she  sings  no  more. 
I  wake,  I  breathe,  I  think  again, 
And  walk  the  sordid  ways  of  men. 


Humor 

:  :  :  :  and  :  :  :  : 

Dialect* 


Humor  and  Dialect* 


<£fye  party, 

Dey  had  a  gread  big  pahty  down  to  Tom's   de  othah 

night ; 
Was  I  dah  ?     You  bet !     I  nevah  in  my  life  see  sich  a 

sight ; 
All  de  folks  f'om  fou'  plantations  was  invited  an'  dey 

come, 
Bey  come  troopin'  thick  ez  chillun  when  dey  heahs  a 

fife  an'  drum. 
Evahbody  dressed  dere  fines' — Heish  yo'  mouf  an'  git 

away, 
Ain't  seen  no  sich  fancy   dressin'   sence  las'   quah'tly 

meetin'  day  ; 
Gals  all  dressed  in  silks  an'  satins,  not  a  wrinkle  ner  a 

crease, 
Eyes  a-battin'  teeth    a-shinin'  haih  breshed  back  ez 

slick  ez  grease ; 
Sku'ts  all  tucked  an'  puffed  an'  ruffled,  evah  blessed 

seam  an'  stitch  ; 
Ef  you'd  seen  'em  wif  deir  mustus,  could'nt  swahed  to 

which  was  which. 
Men  all  dressed  up  in  Prince  Alberts,  swaller- tails  'u'd 

tek  yo'  bref ! 


9  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

I  cain't  tell  you  nothin'  'bout  it,  y'ought  to  seen  it  fu' 

yo'se'f. 
Who  was  dah  ?    Now  who  you  askin  ?    How  you  'spect 

I  gwine  to  know? 
You  mus'  think  I  stood  an'  counted   evahbody  at  de 

do'. 
Ole  man  Babah's  house-boy  Isaac,  brung  dat  gal,  Ma- 

lindy  Jane, 

Huh  a-hangin'  to  his  elbow,  him  a-struttin'  wif  a  cane; 
My,  but  Hahvey  Jones  was  jealous  !  seemed  to  stick 

him  like  a  tho'n  ; 
But  he  laughed  with  Viney  Cahteh,  tryin'  ha'd  to  not 

let  on, 
But  a  pusson  would  a  noticed  f  om  de  d'rection  of  his 

look, 

Dat  he  was  watchin'  ev'ry  step  dat  Ike  an'  Lindy  took. 
Ike  he  foun'  a  cheer  an'  risked  huh  :     "  Won't  you  set 

down  ?"  wif  a  smile, 
An'  she  answe'd  up  a-bowin',  u  Oh  I  reckon  'tain't  wuth 

while." 
Dat  was  jes'  fu'  style,  I  reckon,  'cause  she  set  down  jes' 

de  same, 
An'  she  stayed  dah  till  he  letched  huh  fu'  to  jine  some 

so't  o'  game  ; 

Den  I  heerd  huh  sayin'  propah,  as  she  riz  to  go  away, 
"  Oh,  you  raly   mus'  excuse  me,   fu'  I  hardly  keers  to 

play." 

But  I  seen  huh  in  a  minute  wif  de  othahs  on  de  no', 
An'  dah  wasn't  anyone  o'  dem  a-playin'  any  mo'; 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  91 

Comin'    down    de   no'    a-bowin'    an'   a-swayin'     an' 

a-swingin', 
Puttin'  on   huh  high-toned  mannahs  all  de  time  dat 

she  was  singin'  : 

4  Oh  swing  Johnny  up  an'  down,  swing  him  all  aroun', 
Swing  Johnny  up  an'  down,  swing  him  all  aroun,' 
"  Oh  swing  Johnny  up  an'  down,  swing  him  all  aroun' 
Fa'  you  well  my  darlin." 
Had  to  laff  at  ole  man  Johnson,  he's  a  caution  now 

you  bet — 

Hittin'  dost  onto  a  hunderd,  but  he's  spry  an'  nim- 
ble yet ; 
He  'lowed  how  a-so't  o'  gigglin',  "  I  ain't  ole  I'll  let  you 

see, 
D'aint    no  use   in  gittin  feeble,  now  you  youngsters 

jes'  watch  me," 

An'  he  grabbed  ole  Aunt  Marier — weighs  th'ee  hun- 
derd mo'  er  less, 
An'  he  spun  huh  'roun  de  cabin  swingin'  Johnny  lak 

de  res', 
Evahbody  laffed  an'  hollahed  :     "  Go  it !     Swing  huh 

Uncle  Jim ! 
An'  he  swung  »huh  too,  I  reckon,  lak  a  youngstah,  who 

but  him. 
Dat  was  bettah'n  young  Scott  Thomas,  tryin'  to  be  so 

awful  smaht. 
You  know  when  dey  gits  to  singin'  an'  dey  comes  to 

dat  ere  paht : 

"  In  some  lady's  new  brick  house, 

In  some  lady's  gahden. 


92  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Ef  you  don't  let  me  out,  I  will  jump  out, 

So  fa'  you  well  my  dahlin'." 
Den  dey's  got  a  circle  'roun'  you,  an'  }rou's  got  to  break 

de  line  ; 
Well  dat   dahky  was  so   anxious,  lak  to  bust  hisse'f 

a- try  in'; 
Kep'  on  blun'drin'   'roun'  an'  foolin'  tell  he  giv'  one 

gread  big  jump, 
Broke  de  line,  an'  lit  head-fo'most  in  de  nah-place 

right  plump  ; 
Hit  'ad  fiah  in  it,  mind  you  ;  well  I  thought  my  soul 

I'd  bust, 
Tried  my  best  to  keep  f'om  laffin'  but  hit   seemed  like 

die  I  must, 
Y'  ought  to  seen  dat  man  a-scramblin'  f'om  de  ashes 

an'  de  grime. 
Did  it  b'un  him  !  Sich  a  question,   why  he  didn't  give 

it  time ; 
Th'ow'd  them  ashes  and  dem  cinders  evah   which-a- 

way  I  guess, 
An'  you  nevah  did,  I  reckon  clap  yo'  eyes  on  sich  a 

mess  ; 

Fu'  he  sholy  made  a  picter  an'  a  funny  one  to  boot, 
Wif  his  clothes  all  full  o'  ashes  an'  his   face  all  full  o' 

soot. 
Well,  hit  laked  to  stopped  de  pahty,  an'  I  reckon  lak 

ez  not 
Dat  it  would  ef  Tom's  wife,  Mandy,  hadn't  happened 

on  de  spot, 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  93 

To  invite  us  out  to  suppah — well,  we  scrambled  to  de 

table, 
An'  I'd  lak  to  tell  you  'bout  it — what  we  had — but  I 

ain't  able, 

Mention  jes'  a  few  things  dough,  I  know  I  hadn't  orter, 
Fu'  I  know  'twill  staht  a   hank'rin'  an'  yo'  mouf  '11 

'mence  to  worter. 
We   had  wheat  bread  white  ez  cotton  an'  a  egg  pone 

jes  like  gol', 
Hogjole,  bilin'  hot  an'  steamin'  roasted  shoat  an'  ham 

sliced  cold — 
Look  out !  What's  de  mattah  wif  you  ?  Don't  be  fallin' 

on  de  flo'; 
Ef  its  go'n'  to  'feet  you  dat  way,  I  won't  tell  you 

nothin'  mo'. 
Dah  now — well  we  had    hot   chittlin's  — now  you'se 

tryin'  again  to  fall, 
Cain't  you  stan'  to  heah  about  it  ?     'Spose  you'd  been 

an'  seed  it  all ; 

Seed  dem  gread  big  sweet  pertaters,  layin'  by  de  pos- 
sum's side, 
Seed  dat  coon  in  all  his  gravy,  reckon  den  you'd  up  an 

died! 
Mandy,  'lowed  "  you  all  mus'  'scuse   me,  d'want  much 

upon  my  she'ves, 
But  I've  done  my  bes'  to  suit  you,  so  set  down  an'  he'p 

yo'se'ves." 
Tom,  he  'lowed  :  "  I  don't  b'lieve  in  'pologizin'  an'  per- 

fessin,' 


94  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Let  'em  tek  it  lak  dey  ketch  it,  Eldah  Thompson  ask 

de  blessin'." 
Wish  you'd  seed  dat  colo'ed  preachah,  cleah  his  th'oat 

an'  bow  his  head  ; 
One  eye  shet,  an'  one  eye  open — dis  is  evah  wud  he 

said  : 
*•  Lawd  look  down  in  tend  ah  mussy  on  sich  generous 

hawts  ez  dese ; 
Make  us  truly  thankful,  amen.     Pass  dat  possum,  ef 

yo'  please !  " 
Well,  we  eat  and  drunk  ouah  po'tion,  twel  dah  was'nt 

nothin'  lef, 
An'  we  felt  jes  like  new  sausage,  we   was  mos'  nigh 

stuffed  to  def! 
Tom,   he  knowed   how   we'd  be  feelin,   so  he  had  de 

fiddlah  'roun' 
An'  he  made  us  cleah  de  cabin  fu'  to  dance  dat  suppah 

down. 
Jim,  de  fiddlah,  chuned  his  fiddle,  put  some  rosum  on 

his  bow, 

Set  a  pine  box  on  de  table,  'mounted  it  an'  let  huh  go! 
He's  a  fiddlah  now  I    tell  you,  an'  he  made  dat  fiddle 

ring, 
'Twell  de  ol'est  an'  de  lamest  had  to  give  deir  feet  a 

fling. 
Jigs,  cotillions,  reels  an'   break-downs,  cordrills  an'  a 

waltz  er  two  ; 
Bless  yo'  soul,  dat  music  winged  'em  an'  dem  people 

lak  to  flew. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  95 

Cripple  Joe,  de  ole  rheumatic,  danced  dat  flo1  f  om  side 
to  middle, 

Th'owed  away  his  crutch  an'  hopped  it,  what's  rheu- 
matics 'ginst  a  fiddle  ? 

Eldah  Thompson  got  so  tickled  dat  he  lak  to  lose  his 
grace, 

Had  to  tek  bofe  feet  an'  hoi'  dem  so  's  to  keep  'em  in 
deir  place. 

An7  de  Christuns  an'  de  sinnahs  got  so  mixed  up  on 
dat  no', 

Dat  I  don't  see  how  dey'd  pahted  ef  de  trump  had 
chanced  to  blow. 

Well,  we  danced  dat  way  an'  capahed  in  de  mos'  redic- 
'lous  way, 

'Twell  de  roostahs  in  de  bahn-yard  cleahed  deir  th'oats 
an'  crowed  fu'  day. 

Y'ought  to  been  dah,  fu'  I  tell  you  evahthing  was  rich 
an'  prime, 

An'  dey  ain't  no  use  in  talkin',  we  jes  had  one  scrump- 
tious time ! 


Cfye  Spelltn'  Bee. 

I  never  shall  furgit  that  night  when  father  hitched  up 

Dobbin, 
And  all  us  youngsters  clambered  in  an'  down  the  road 

went  bobbin' 
To  school  where  we  wuz  kep'  at  work  in  every  kind  or 

weather, 


96  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

But  where  that  night   a   spellin'  bee   wuz   callin'  us 

together. 
7Twuz  one  o'  Heaven's  banner  nights,  the  stars  wuz  all 

a  glitter, 
The  moon  was  shinin'  like  the  hand  o'  God  had  jest 

now  lit  her. 
The  ground  wuz  white  with  spotless  snow,  the  blast 

wuz  sort  o'  stingin' ; 
But  underneath  our  round-abouts,  you  bet  our  hearts 

wuz  singin'. 
That  spellin'  bee  had  be'n  the  talk  o'  many  a  precious 

moment, 
The  youngsters   all   wuz   wild   to   see  jes'   what  the 

precious  show  meant 
An'  we  whose  years  wuz  in  their  teens,  was  little  less 

desirous 
O'   gittin'   to   the  meetin'  so's  our  sweethearts  could 

admire  us. 

So  on  we  went  so  anxious  fur  to  satisfy  our  mission 
That  father  had  to  box  our  ears,  to  smother  our  ambi- 
tion, 
But  boxin'  ears  wuz  too  short  work  to   hinder  our 

arrivin', 
He  jest  turned  roun'  an'  smacked  us  all,  an'  kep'  right 

on  a  drivin'. 
Well,  soon  the  schoolhouse  hove  in  sight,  the  winders 

beamin'  brightly ; 
The  sound  o'  talkin'  reached  our  ears  and  voices  laffin' 

lightly. 
It  puffed  us  up  so  full  an'  big  'at  I'll  jest  bet  a  dollar, 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  97 

There  wan't  a  feller  there  but  felt  the  strain  upon  his 

collar. 
So  down  we  jumped  an'  in  we  went  ez  sprightly  ez  you 

make  'em, 
But  somethin'  grabbed  us  by  the  knees  an'  straight 

began  to  shake  'em. 
Fur  once  within  that  lighted  room,  our  feelin's  took  a 

canter, 
An'    scurried    to   the    zero    mark   ez    quick   ez   Tarn 

O'Shanter. 
Cause  there  wuz  crowds  o'  people  there,  both  sexes  an' 

all  stations ; 
It  looked  like  all  the  town  had  come  an'  brought  all 

their  relations. 
The  first  I  saw  wuz  Nettie  Gray,  I  thought  that  girl 

was  dearer 
'N'  gold  an'  when  I  got  a  chance,  you  bet  I  aidged  up 

near  her. 
An'  Farmer  Dobbses  girl  wuz  there,  the  one  'at  Jim 

was  sweet  on, 
An'    Cyrus   Jones   an'   Mandy   Smith    an'    Faith    'an 

Patience  Deaton. 
Then  Parson  Brown  an'  Lawyer  Jones  were  present — 

all  attention, 
An'   piles   on    piles   of  other  folks   too   numerous   to 

mention. 
The  master  rose  an'  brietlly  said  :  "Good  friends,  dear 

brother  Crawford 
To  spur  the  pupils1  minds    along,  a   little   pri/e   has 

offered. 


98  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

To  him  who  spells  the  best  to-night — or  't  may  be  'her' 

— no  tell  in' — 
He   offers   ez   a  jest   reward,  this   precious   work   on 

spellin', 
A  little  blue-backed  spellun'  book  with  fancy  scarlet 

trimmin' ; 
We  boys  devoured  it  with  our  eyes — so  did  the  girls 

an'  women. 
He  held  it  up  where  all  could  see,  then  on  the  table 

set  it, 
An'  ev'ry  speller  in  the  house  felt  mortal  bound  to 

get  it. 
At  his  command  we  fell  in  line,  prepared  to  do  our 

dooty, 
Outspell  the  rest  an'  set  'em  down,  an'  carry  home  the 

booty. 
'Twas  then  the  merry  times  began,  the  blunders,  an' 

the  laffin', 

The  nudges  an'  the  nods  an'  winks  an1   stale   good- 
natured  chaffin'. 
Ole  Uncle  Hiram  Dane  wuz  there,  the  clostest  man  a 

livin'. 
Whose  only  bugbear  seemed  to  be  the  dreadful  fear  o' 

givin'. 
His  beard  was  long,  his  hair  uncut,  his  clothes  all  bare 

an'  dingy  ; 
Jt  wuzn't  'cause  the  man  wuz  pore,  but  jest  so  mortal 

stingy. 

An'  there  he  sot  by  Sally  Riggs  a  smilin'  an'  a  smirkin', 
An'  all  his  childern  lei' '  to  home  a  diggin'  an'  a  workin'. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  99 

A  widower,  he  wuz  an'  Sal  was  thinkin'  'at  she'd  wing 

him  ; 
I  reckon  he  wuz  wond'rin'  what  them  rings  o'  her'n 

would  bring  him. 
An'  when  the  spellin'  test  commenced,  he  up  an'  took 

his  station, 

A-spellin'  with  the  best  o'  them  to  beat  the  very  nation. 
An'  when  he'd  spell  some  youngster  down,  he'd  turn  to 

look  at  Sally, 
An'  say  :  "  The  teachin'  now-2-days  can't  be  o'no  great 

vally." 
But   true   enough   the   adage    says,   "  Pride   walks   in 

slipp'ry  places," 
Fur  soon  a  thing  occurred  that  put  a  smile  on  all  our 

faces. 
The  laffter  jest  kep'  ripplin'  'roun'  an'  teacher  couldn't 

quell  it, 
Fur  when  he  give  out  "  charity,"  ole  Hiram  couldn't 

spell  it. 
But   laffin's  ketchin'  an'  it  throwed   some  others  off 

their  bases, 
An'  folks  'ud  miss  the  very  word  that  seemed  to  tit 

their  cases. 
Why,  fickle  little  Jessie  Lee  come  near  the  house  up- 

settin' 

By  puttin'in  a  double  kay  to  spell  the  word  coquettin'. 
An'  when  it  come  to  Cyrus  Jones,  it  tickled  me  all 

over — 
Him  settin'  up  to  Mandy  Smith  an'  got  sot  down  on 

"lover." 


100  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

But  Lawyer  Jones  of  all  gone  men  did  shorely  look 

the  gonest, 
When  he  found  out  that  he'd  furgot  to  put  the  "  h  "  in 

u  honest." 
An1  Parson  Brown  whose  sermons  were  too  long  fur 

toleration, 
Caused  lots  o'  smiles  by  missin'  when  they  give  out 

"  condensation." 
So  one  by  one  they  giv  it  up — the  big  words  kep'  a 

landin', 
Till    me    an'    Nettie   Gray   wuz   left,   the    only    ones 

a-standin', 
An'  then  my  inward  strife  began — I  guess  my  mind 

was  petty— 
I  did  so  want  that  spellin'  book  ;  but  then  to  spell 

down  Nettie 
Jest  sort  o'  went  agin  my  grain — I  somehow  couldn't 

do  it, 
An'  when  I  git  a  notion  fixed,  I'm  great  on  stickin' 

to  it. 
So  when  they  giv'  the  next  word  out — I  hadn't  orter 

tell  it, 
But  then  'twas  all  fur  Nettie's  sake — I  missed  so's  she 

could  spell  it. 
She  spelt  the  word,  then  looked  at  me  so  lovin'-like  an' 

mello', 
I  tell  you  't  sent  a  hunderd  pins  a-shootin'  through  a 

fello'. 
O'  course  I  had  to  stand  the  jokes  an'  chaffin'  of  the 

fello's, 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  lUl 

But  when  they  handed  her  the  book  I  vow  I  wasn't 

jealous. 
We  sung  a  hymn  an'  Parson  Brown  dismissed  us  like 

he  orter, 
Fur  la!  he'd  learned   a   thing   er   two   an'  made  his 

blessin'  shorter. 
'Twas  late  an'  cold  when  we  got  out,  but  Nettie  liked 

cold  weather, 
An'   so   did   I,   so   we   agreed   we'd   jest   walk   home 

together. 
We  both    wuz  silent,  fur  of  words  we   nuther  had  a 

surplus, 
'Till  she  spoke  out  quite  sudden  like,  "  You  missed 

that  word  on  purpose." 
Well,    I   declare   it   frightened    me ;    at   first   I   tried 

denyin', 
But  Nettie,  she  jest  smiled  an'  smiled,  she  knowed  that 

I  was  lyin'. 
Sez  she  :  " That  book  is  your'n  by  rights  ;"  sez  I  :  "It 

never  could  be — 
I — I — you— ah "an'   there  I  stuck,  an'   well   she 

understood  me. 

So  we  Ligreed  that  later  on  when  age  had  giv'  us  tether, 
We'd  jine  our  lots  an'  settle  down  to  own  that  book 

together. 


102  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 


Ctn  Ctnte=BelIum  Sermon. 

We  is  gathahed  hyeah,  my  brothah, 

In  dis  howlin'  wildaness, 
Fer  to  speak  some  words  of  comfo't 

To  each  othah  in  distress. 
An'  we  chooses  fer  ouah  subjic' 

Dis — we'll  'splain  it  by  an'  by  ; 
"An'  de  Lawd  said  Moses,  Moses, 

An"  de  man  said,  '  Hyeah  am  I." 

Now  ole  Pher'oh,  down  in  Egypt, 

Was  de  wuss  man  evah  bo'n, 
An'  he  had  de  Hebrew  chillun, 

Down  dah  wukin'  in  his  co'n  ; 
'Twell  de  Lawd  got  tiahed  o'  his  foolin'. 

An'  sez  he  :  "  I'll  let  him  know — 
Look  hyeah,  Moses,  go  tell  Pher'oh 

Fu'  to  let  dem  chillen  go. 

An'  ef  he  refuse  to  do  it, 

I  will  make  him  rue  de  houah, 
Fu'  I'll  empty  down  on  Egypt 

All  de  vials  of  my  powah." 
Yes,  he  did — an'  Pher'oh 's  ahmy 

Wasn't  wuth  a  ha'f  a  dime  ; 
Fu'  de  Lawd  will  he'p  his  chillun, 

You  kin  trust  him  ev'ry  time. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  103 


An'  yo'  enemies  may  'sail  you 

In  de  back  an'  in  de  front ; 
But  de  Lawd  is  all  aroun'  you, 

Fu'  to  ba'  de  battle's  brunt. 
Dey  kin  fo'ge  yo'  chains  an'  shackles 

F'om  de  mountains  to  de  sea  ; 
But  de  Lawd  will  sen'  some  Moses 

Fu'  to  set  his  chillun  free. 

An'  de  Ian'  shall  hyeah  his  thundah, 

Lak  a  bias'  f 'om  Gab'el's  ho'n, 
Fu'  de  Lawd  of  hosts  is  mighty 

When  he  girds  his  ahmor  on. 
But  fu'  feah  some  one  mistakes  me, 

I  will  pau^e  right  hyeah  to  say, 
Dat  I'm  still  a-preachin'  ancient, 

I  ain't  talkin'  'bout  to-day. 

But  I  tell  you,  fellah  christuns, 

Things  '11  happen  mighty  strange  ; 
Now,  de  Lawd  done  clis  fu'  Isrul, 

An'  his  ways  don't  nevah  change, 
An'  de  love  he  showed  to  Isrul 

Wasn't  all  on  Isrul  spent ; 
Now  don't  run  an'  tell  yo'  mastahs 

Dat  I'se  preachin'  discontent. 

'Cause  I  isn't ;  I'se  a  judgin' 
Bible  people  by  deir  ac's  ; 

I'se  a  givin'  you  de  Scriptuah, 
I'se  a  handin'  you  de  fac's. 


104  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Cose  ole  Pher'oh  believed  in  slav'ry, 
But  de  Lavvd  he  let  him  see, 

Dat  de  people  he  put  bref  in, — 
Evah  mothah's  son  was  free. 

An'  dahs  othahs  thinks  lak  Pher'oh, 

But  dey  calls  de  Scriptuah  liar, 
Fu'  de  Bible  says  "  a  servant 

Is  a  worthy  of  his  hire." 
An'  you  caint  git  roun'  nor  thoo  dat, 

An'  you  cain't  git  ovah  it, 
Fu'  whatevah  place  you  git  in, 

Dis  hyeah  Bible  too  '11  fit- 
So  you  see  de  Lawd's  intention 

Evah  sence  de  worl'  began, 
Was  dat  His  almighty  freedom 

Should  belong  to  evah  man, 
But  I  think  it  would  be  bettah, 

Ef  I'd  pause  agin  to  say, 
That  I'm  talkin'  bout  ouah  freedom 

In  a  Bibleistic  way. 

But  de  Moses  is  a  comin, 

An'  he's  comin,  suah  and  fas' 
We  kin  hyeah  his  feet  a-trompin', 

'We  kin  hyeah  his  trumpit  bias.' 
But  I  want  to  wa'n  you  people, 

Don't  you  git  too  brigity  ; 
An'  don't  you  git  to  braggin' 

'Bout  dese  things,  you  wait  an'  see. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  105 


But  when  Moses  wif  his  powah, 

Comes  an'  sets  us  chillen  free, 
W«  will  praise  de  gracious  Mastah 

Dat  has  gin  us  liberty  ; 
An'  we'll  shout  ouah  halleluyahs, 

On  dat  mighty  reck'nin'  day, 
When  we'se  reco'nized  ez  citiz' — 

Huh  uh  !     Chillen  let  us  pray  ! 


d  Banjo  Song. 

Oh,  dere's  lots  o'  care  an'  trouble 

In  dis  world  to  swaller  down  ; 
An'  oP  Sorrer's  purty  lively 

In  her  way  o'  gittin'  roun', 
Yet  dere's  times  when  I  furgit  'em — 

Aches  an'  pains  an'  troubles  all — 
An'  it's  when  I  take  at  ebenin' 

My  oP  banjo  f ' um  de  wall. 

'Bout  de  time  dat  night  is  iallin' 

An'  my  daily  wu'k  is  done, 
An'  above  de  shady  hilltops 

I  kin  see  de  settin'  sun  ; 
When  de  quiet,  restful  sh  adders 

Is  beginnin'  jes'  to  fall — 
Den  I  take  de  little  banjo 

F'um  its  place  upon  de  wall. 


106  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Den  my  fam'ly  gadders  roun'  me 

In  de  fadin'  o'  de  light, 
Ez  I  strike  de  strings  to  try  'em 

Ef  dey  all  is  tuned  er-right. 
An'  it  seems  we're  so  nigh  heaben 

We  kin  hyeah  de  angels  sing 
When  de  music  o'  dat  banjo 

Sets  my  cabin  all  er-ririg. 

An'  my  wife  an'  all  de  chillun— 

Male  an'  female,  small  an'  big — 
Even  up  to  gray-haired  granny, 

Seem  jes'  boun'  to  do  a  jig  ; 
'Twell  I  change  de  style  o'  music, 

Change  de  movement  an'  de  time, 
An'  de  ringin'  little  banjo 

Plays  an  ol'  hea't-feelin'  hime. 

An'  somehow  my  th'oat  gits  choky, 

An'  a  lump  keeps  tryin'  to  rise, 
Lak  it  wan'ed  to  ketch  de  water 

Dat  was  nowin'  to  my  eyes  ; 
An'  1  feel  dat  I  could  sorter 

Knock  de  socks  clean  off  o'  sin 
Ez  I  hyeah  my  po'  ol'  granny 

Wid  huh  tremblin'  voice  jine  in. 

Den  we  all  th'ow  in  our  voices 
Fu'  to  he'p  de  chime  out  too, 

Lak  a  big  camp-meetin'  choiry 
Tryin'  to  sing  a  mou'nah  th'oo. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  107 

An'  our  th'oats  let  out  tie  music, 

Sweet  an'  solemn,  loud  an'  free, 
'Twell  de  raftahs  o'  my  cabin 

Echo  wid  de  melody. 

Oh,  de  music  o'  de  banjo, 

Quick  an'  deb'lish,  solemn,  slow, 
Is  de  greates'  joy  an'  solace 

Dat  a  weary  slave  kin  know  ! 
So  jes  let  me  hyeah  it  ringin', 

Do'  de  chune  be  po'  an'  rough, 
It's  a  pleasure  ;  an'  de  pleasures 

O'  dis  life  is  few  enough. 

Now,  de  blessed  little  angels 

Up  in  heaben,  we  are  told, 
Don't  do  nothin'  all  dere  lifetime 

'Ceptin'  play  on  ha'ps  o'  gold. 
Now  I  think  heaben'd  be  mo'  homelike 

Ef  we'd  hyeah  some  music  fall 
F'um  a  real  ol'-fashioned  banjo, 

Like  dat  one  upon  de  wall. 


Cfye  01'  Cunes. 

You  kin  talk  about  yer  anthems 

An'  yer  arias  an'  sich, 
An'  yer  modern  choir  singin' 

That  you  think  so  awful  rich  ; 


108  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

But  you  orter  heerd  us  youngsters 
In  the  times  now  far  away. 

A-singin'  o'  the  ol'  tunes 
In  the  ol'-fashioned  way. 

There  was  some  o'  us  sung  treble 

An'  a  few  o'  us  growled  bass, 
An'  the  side  o'  song  flowed  smoothly 

With  its  complement  o'  grace  : 
There  was  spirit  in  that  music, 

An'  a  kind  o'  solemn  sway, 
A  singin'  o'  the  ol'  tunes 

In  the  ol'-fashioned  way. 

I  remember  oft  o'  standin' 

In  my  homespun  pantaloons— 
On  my  face  the  bronze  an'  freckles 

O'  the  suns  o'  youthful  Junes — 
Thinkin'  that  no  mortal  minstrel 

Ever  chanted  sich  a  lay 
As  the  ol'  tunes  we  was  singin' 

In  the  ol'-fashioned  way. 

The  boys  'ud  always  lead  us, 

An'  the  girls  'ud  all  chime  in. 
Till  the  sweetness  o'  the  singin' 

Robbed  the  list'nin'  soul  o'  sin  ; 
An'  I  ust  to  tell  the  parson 

'Twas  as  good  to  sing  as  pray, 
When  the  people  sung  the  ol'  tunes 

In  the  ol '-fashioned  way. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  109 

How  I  long  agin  to  hear  it, 

Pourin'  forth  from  soul  to  soul, 
With  the  treble  high  an'  meller, 

An'  the  bass's  mighty  roll ; 
But  the  times  is  very  different, 

An'  the  music  heerd  to-day 
Ain't  the  singin'  o'  the  ol'  tunes 

In  the  ol'-fashioned  way. 

Little  screechin'  by  a  woman, 

Little  squawkin'  by  a  man, 
Then  the  organ's  twiddle-twaddle, 

Just  the  empty  space  to  span, — 
An'  ef  you  should  even  think  it, 

'Tisn't  proper  fur  to  say 
That  you  want  to  hear  the  ol'  tunes 

In  the  ol'-fashioned  way. 

But  I  think  that  some  bright  mornin, 

When  the  toils  of  life  air  o'er, 
An'  the  sun  o'heaven  arisin' 

Glads  with  light  the  happy  shore ; 
I  shall  hear  the  angel  chorus, 

In  the  realms  o'  endless  day, 
A  singin'  o1  the  ol'  tunes 

In  the  ol'-fashioned  wav. 


110  MAJORS  A:NTD  MINORS. 


d  negro  Cope  Song. 

Seen  my  lady  home  las'  night, 
Jump  back  honey,  jump  back. 

Hel'  huh  han'  an'  sque'z  it  tight, 
Jump  back  honey,  jump  back. 

Heahd  huh  sigh  a  little  sigh, 

Seen  a  light  gleam  f  urn  huh  eye, 

An'  a  smile  go  flitin'  by- 
Jump  back  honey,  jump  back. 

Heahd  de  win'  blow  thoo  de  pines. 
Jump  back  honey,  jump  back. 

Mockin'  bird  was  singm,  fine, 
Jump  back  honey,  jump  back. 

An'  my  hea't  was  beatin'  so, 

When  I  reached  my  lady's  do'. 

Dat  I  couldn't  ba'  to  go- 
Jump  back,  honey,  jump  back. 

Put  my  ahm  aroun'  huh  wais', 
Jump  back,  honey,  jump  back. 

Raised  huh  lips  an  took  a  tase', 
Jump  back,  honey,  jump  back. 

Love  me  honey,  love  me  true  ? 

Love  me  well  ez  I  love  you  ? 

An'  she  ansawhd  :     "  'Cose  I  do  " — 
Jump  back,  honey,  jump  back. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  Ill 


IDfyen  be  (Eo'n  Pone's 


~Dey  is  times  in  life,  when  Nature 

Seems  to  slip  a  cog  an'  go, 
Jes'  a  rattlin'  down  creation, 

Lak  an  ocean's  overflow  ; 
When  de  worl'  jes'  stahts  a-spinnin' 

Lak  a  picaninny's  top, 
An'  yo'  cup  o'  joy  is  brimmiir 

'Twel  it  seems  about  to  slop. 
An'  you  feel  jes'  lak  a  racah, 

Dat  is  trainin'  fu'  to  trot  — 
When  yo'  mammy  ses  de  blessin' 

An'  de  co'n  pone's  hot. 

When  you  set  down  at  de  table. 

Kin'  o'  weary  lak  an'  sad, 
An'  you'se  jes'  a  little  tiahed 

An'  purhaps  a  little  mad  ; 
How  yo'  gloom  tu'ns  into  gladness, 

How  yo'  joy  drives  out  de  doubt 
When  de  oven  do'  is  opened, 

An'  de  smell  comes  po'in'  out  : 
Why,  de  'lectric  light  o'  Heaven 

Seems  to  settle  on  de  spot, 
When  yo'  mammy  ses  de  blessin' 

An'  de  co'n  pone's  hot. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

When  de  cabbage  pot  is  steamin' 

An'  de  bacon  good  an'  fat, 
When  de  chittlin's  is  a  sputter'n' 

So's  to  show  you  whah  dey's  at ; 
Take  away  yo'  sody  biscuit, 

Take  away  yo'  cake  an'  pie, 
Fu'  de  glory  time  is  comin', 

An'  its  'proachin'  very  nigh, 
An'  you  want  to  jump  an'  hollali, 

Do  you  know  you'd  bettah  not. 
When  yo'  mammy  ses  de  blessin' 

An'  de  co'n  pone's  hot. 

I  have  heerd  o'  lots  o'  sermons, 

An'  I've  heerd  o'  lots  o'  prayers  ; 
An'  I've  listened  to  some  singin' 

Dat  has  tuck  me  up  de  stairs 
Of  de  Glory-Lan'  an'  set  me 

Jes'  below  de  Mahster's  th'one 
An'  have  lef '  my  hawt  a  singin' 

In  a  happy  aftah  tone. 
But  dem  wu'ds  so  sweetly  murmured 

Seem  to  tech  de  softes'  spot, 
When  my  mammy  ses  de  blessin', 

An'  de  co'n  pone's  hot. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  113 


Conesome. 

Mother's  gone  a-visitin'  to  spend  a  month  er  two, 

An'  oh,  the  house  is  lonesome  ez  a  nest  whose  birds  has 

flew 

To  other  trees  to  build  agin;  the  rooms  seem  jest  so  bare 
That  the  echoes  run  like  sperrits  from  the  kitchen  to 

the  stair. 

The  shetters  flap  more  lazy-like  'n  what  they  ust  to  do, 
Sence  mother's  gone  a-visitin'  to  spend  a  month  er  two. 

We've  killed  the  fattest  chicken  an'  we've  cooked  her 
to  a  turn  ; 

We've  made  the  richest  gravy,  but  I  jist  don't  give  a 
durn, 

Fur  nothin'  'at  I  drink  er  eat,  er  nothin  'at  I  see. 

The  food  ain't  got  the  pleasant  taste  it  ust  to  have  to  me. 

They:s  somep'n'  stickin'  in  my  throat  ez  tight  ez  hard- 
ened glue, 

Sence  mother's  gone  a-visitin'  to  spend  a  month  er  two. 

The  holly-hocks  air  jest  ez  pink,  they're  double  ones  at 

that, 

An'  I  wuz  prouder  of  'em  than  a  baby  of  a  cat. 
But  now  I  don't  go  near  'em,  tho'  they  nod  an'  blush 

at  me, 
Fur  they's  somep'n'  seems  to  gall  me  in  their  keerless 

sort  o'  glee 


114  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

An'  all  their  fren'ly  noddin'  an'  their  blushin'  seems 

to  say  : 
"  You're  purty  lonesome,  John,  old  boy,  sence  mother's 

gone  away. 

The  neighbors  ain't  so  fren'ly  ez  it  seems  they'd  ort 

to  be  ; 

They  seem  to  be  a-lookin'  kinder  sideways  like  at  me, 
A-kinder  feared  they'd  tech  me  off  ez  ef  I  wuz  a  match, 
An'  all  because  'at  mother's  gone  an'  I'm  a-keepin' 

batch  ! 

I'm  shore  I  don't  do  nothin'  worse  'n  what  I  ust  to  do 
Fore  mother  went  a  visitin'  to  spend  a  month  er  two. 

The  sparrers  ac's  more  fearsome  like  an'  won't  hop 

quite  so  near, 
The  cricket's  chirp  is  sadder  an'  the  sky  ain't  ha'f  so 

clear ; 
When  ev'nin'  comes,  I  set  an'  smoke  tell  my  eyes  begin 

to  swim, 
An'  things  aroun'  commence  to  look  all  blurred,  an 

faint  an'  dim. 
Well,  I  guess  I'll  have  to  own  up  'at  I'm  feelin'  purty 

blue, 
Sence  mother's  gone  a- visitin'  to  spend  a  month  er  two. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  115 


Cfye  JDootng. 

% 

A  youth  went  faring  up  and  down, 

Alack  and  well-a-day. 
He  fared  him  to  the  market  town. 

Alack  and  well-a-day. 
And  there  he  met  a  maiden  fair, 
With  hazel  eyes  and  auburn  hair — 
His  heart  went  from  him  then  and  there 

Alack  and  well-a-day. 

She  posies  sold  right  merrily, 

Alack  and  well-a-day  ; 
But  not  a  flower  was  fair  as  she, 

Alack  and  well-a-day. 
He  bought  a  rose  and  sighed  a  sigh 
"Ah,  dearest  maiden,  would  that  I 
Might  dare  the  seller  too  to  buy," 

Alack  and  well-a-day. 

She  tossed  her  head — the  coy  coquette, 

Alack  and  well-a-day. 
"  I'm  not  sir  in  the  market  yet  " 

Alack  and  well  a-day. 
Your  love  must  cool  upon  a  shelf; 
Tho'  much  I  sell  for  gold  and  pelf 
I'm  yet  too  young  to  sell  myself 

Alack  and  well-a-day. 


1.16  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

The  youth  was  filled  with  sorrow  sore 

Alack  and  well-a-day. 
And  looked  he  at  the  maid  once  more 

Alack  and  well-a  day. 
Then  loud  he  cried,  "  Fair  maiden  if 
Too  young  to  sell,  now  as  I  live, 
You're  not  too  young  yourself  to  give  " 
Alack  and  well-a-day. 

The  little  maid  cast  down  her  eyes 

Alack  and  well-a-day. 
And  many  a  flush  began  to  rise 

Alack  and  well-a-day. 
"  Why,  since  you  are  so  bold,"  she  said, 
u  I  doubt  not  you  are  highly  bred, 
So  take  me!  "  and  the  twain  were  wed. 
Alack  and  well-a-day. 


Corn=5talk     i 


When  the  corn's  all  cut  and  the  bright  stalks  shine 
Like  the  burnished  spears  of  a  field  of  gold  ; 

When  the  field-mice  rich  on  the  nubbins  dine, 

And  the  frost  comes  white  and  the  wind  blows  cold  ; 

Then  its  heigho  fellows  and  hi-diddle-diddle, 

For  the  time  is  ripe  for  the  corn-stalk  fiddle. 

And  you  take  a  stalk  that  is  straight  and  long, 
With  an  expert  eye  to  its  worthy  points, 


MAJOHS    AND    MINORS.  117 

And  you  think  of  the  bubbling  strains  of  song 

That  are  bound  between  its  pithy  joints  — 
Then  you  cut  out  strings,  with  a  bridge  in  the  middle, 
With  a  corn-stalk  bow  for  a  corn-stalk  fiddle. 

Then  the  strains  that  grow  as  you  draw  the  bow 
O'er  the  yielding  strings  with  a  practiced  hand  ! 

And  the  music's  flow  never  loud  but  low 
Is  the  concert  note  of  a  fairy  band. 

Oh,  your  dainty  songs  are  a  misty  riddle 

To  the  simple  sweets  of  the  corn-stalk  fiddle. 


the  eve  comes  on  and  our  work  is  done 
And  the  sun  drops  down  with  a  tender  glance, 
With  their  hearts  all  prime  for  the  harmless  fun, 

Come  the  neighbor  girls  for  the  evening's  dance, 
And  they  wail  for  the  well-known  twist  and  twiddle, 
More  time  than  tune  —  from  the  corn-stalk  fiddle. 

Then  brother  Jabez  takes  the  bow, 

While  Ned  stands  off  with  Susan  Bland, 

Then  Henry  stops  by  Milly  Snow 
And  John  takes  Nellie  Jones's  hand, 

While  I  pair  off  with  Mandy  Biddle, 

And  scrape,  scrape,  scrape  goes  the  corn-stalk  fiddle. 

''  Salute  your  partners,"  comes  the  call, 

u  All  join  hands  and  circle  round," 
"  Grand  train  back,"  and  "  Balance  all," 

Footsteps  lightly  spurn  the  ground. 
"  Take  your  lady  and  balance  down  the  middle  " 
To  the  merry  strains  of  the  corn-stalk  fiddle. 


118  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

So  the  night  goes  on  and  the  dance  is  o'er, 
And  the  merry  girls  are  homeward  gone, 

But  I  see  it  all  in  my  sleep  once  more. 
And  I  dream  till  the  very  break  of  dawn 

Of  an  impish  dance  on  a  red-hot  griddle 

To  the  screech  and  scrape  of  a  corn-stalk  fiddle. 


(Lurtain. 

Villain  shows  his  indiscretion, 
Villian's  partner  makes  confession. 
Juvenile,  with  golden  tresses, 
Finds  her  pa  and  dons  long  dresses. 
Scape-grace  comes  home,  money-laden, 
Hero  comforts  tearful  maiden, 
Soubrette  marries  loyal  chappie, 
Villain  skips  and  all  are  happy. 


Dcsertcb  plantation. 

Oh  de  grubbin-hoe's  a  rustin'  in  de  co'nah, 
An'  de  plow's  a  tumblin'  down  in  de  fiel'— 

While  de  whippo'will's  a  wailin'  lak  a  mou'nah. 
When  his  stubbo'n  hawt  is  tryin'  ha'd  to  yiel1. 

In  de  furrers  wha'  de  co'n  was  allus  wavin', 

Now  de  weeds  is  growin'  green  an'  rank  an'  tall ; 

An  de  swallers  roun'  de  whole  place  is  a  bravin' 
Lak  dey  thought  their  folks  had  allus  owned  it  all. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  119 

An'  de  big  house  stan's  all  quiet  lak  an'  solemn, 
Not  a  blessed  soul  in  pa'lor,  po'ch  er  lawn  ; 

Not  a  guest,  ner  not  a  ca'iage  lef  to  haul  'em, 

Fu'  de  ones  dat  tu'ned  de  latch-string  out  air  gone. 

An'  de  banjo's  voice  is  silent  in  de  qua'ters, 
D'ain't  a  hymn  ner  co'n-song  ringin'  in  de  ah  ; 

But  de  murmur  of  a  branch's  passin'  waters 
Ts  de  only  soun'  dat  breks  de  stillness  da. 

Wha's  de  da'kies,  dem  dat  ust  to  be  a  dancin' 

Ebry  night  befo'  de  ole  cabin  do'  ? 
Wha's  de  chillun,  dem  dat  ust  to  be  a  prancin', 

Er  a  rollin'  in  de  san'  er  on  de  no'  ? 

Wha's  de  Uncle  Mordecai  an'  Uncle  Aaron? 

Wha's  Aunt  Doshy,  Sam  an'  Kit  an'  all  de  res'  ? 
Wha's  ole  Tom  de  da'ky  fiddlah,  how's  he  farin'  ? 

Wha's  de  gals  dat  ust  to  sing  an'  dance  de  bes'  ? 

Gone !  not  one  o'  dem  is  lef  to  tell  de  story. 

Dey  have  lef  de  deah  ole  place  to  fall  away. 
Couldn't  one  o'  dem  dat  seed  it  in  its  glory 

Stay  to  watch  it  in  de  hour  of  decay  ? 

Dey  have  lef  de  ole  plantation  to  de  swallers, 

But  it  hoi's  in  me  a  lover  till  de  las'  ; 
Fu'  I  fin'  hyeah  in  de  memory  dat  follers 

All  dat  loved  me  an'  dat  I  loved  in  de  pas'. 


120  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

So  I'll  wtay  an'  watch  de  deah  ole  place  an'  tend  it 
Ez  I  ust  to  in  de  happy  days  gone  by. 

Twell  de  othah  Mastah  thinks  it's  time  to  end  it, 
An'  calls  me  to  my  qua'ters  in  de  sky. 


CTccountabiltty. 

Folks  aint  got  no  right  to  censuah  uthah  folks  about 

dey  habits  ; 
Him  dat  giv  de  squir'ls  de  bushtails  made  de  bobtails 

fu'  de  rabbits. 
Him  dat  built  de  grea'  big  mountains  hollered  out  de 

little  valleys, 
Him  dat  made  de  streets  an'  driveways  wasn't  shamed 

to  make  de  alleys. 

We  is  all  constructed  diff'rent,  d'ain't  no  two  of  us  de 

same  ; 
We  can't  he'p  ouah  likes  an'  dislikes,  ef  we'se  bad  we 

ain't  to  blame. 
Ef  we'se  good,  we  needn't  show  off,  case  you  bet  it  ain't 

ouah  doin' 
We  gits  into  su'ttain  channels  dat  we  jes  caint  he'p 

pu'suin'. 

But  we  all  fits  into  places  dat  no  othah  ones  cud  fill 
An'  we  does  the  things  we  has  to,  big  er  little,  good  er 
ill. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  121 

John  cain't  tek  de  place  o'  Henry,  Su  an'  Sally  ain't 

alike ; 
Bass  ain't  nuthin'  like  a  suckah,  chub  ain't  nuthin' 

like  a  pike. 

When  you  come  to  think  about  it,  how  it's  all  planned 

out  it's  splendid. 
Nuthin's  done  er  evah  happens,  'dout  hit's   somefin' 

dat's  intended  ; 
Don't  keer  whut  you  does,  you  has  to,  an'   hit  sholy 

beats  de  dickens, — 
Viney   go  put   on    de   kittle,   I   got   one   o'   mastah's 

chickens. 


Ho  Confibcnce. 

Uncle  John,  he  makes  me  tired  ; 
Thinks  ?at  he's  jest  so  all-fired 
Smart,  'at  he  kin  pick  up,  so, 
Ever'thing  he  wants  to  know. 
Tried  to  ketch  me  up  last  night, 
But  you  bet  I  wouldn't  bite. 
I  jest  kep'  the  smoothes'  face, 
But  I  led  him  sich  a  chase, 
Couldn't  corner  me,  you  bet — 
I  skipped  all  the  traps  he  set. 
Makin'  out  he  wan'ed  to  know 
Who  was  this  an'  that  girl's  beau  ; 
So's  he'd  find  out,  don't  you  see — 
Who  wuz  goin'  long  with  me. 


122  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

But  I  answers  jest  ez  sly, 
An'  I  never  winks  my  eye, 
Tell  he  hollers  with  a  whirl — 
"  Look  here,  ain't  you  got  a  girl?" 
Y'ought  'o  seen  me  spread  my  eyes, 
Like  he'd  took  me  by  surprise, 
An'  I  said,  "  Oh,  Uncle  John, 
Never  thought  o'  havin'  one." 
An'  somehow  that  seemed  to  tickle 
Him  an'  he  shelled  out  a  nickle. 
Then  you  ought  to  seen  me  leave 
Just  a  laffin'  in  my  sleeve. 
Fool  him — well,  I  guess  I  did  ; 
He  ain't  on  to  this  here  kid. 
Got  a  girl !  well,  I  guess  yes, 
Got  a  dozen  more  or  less, 
But  I  got  one  reely  one, 
Not  no  foolin'  ner  no  fun  ; 
Fur  I'm  sweet  on  her,  you  see, 
An'  I  ruther  guess  'at  she 
Must  be  kinder  sweet  on  me, 
So  we're  keepin'  company. 
Honest  Injun  !  this  is  true, 
Ever'  word  I'm  tellin'  you  ! 
But  you  won't  be  sich  a  scab 
Ez  to  run  aroun'  an'  blab. 
Mebbe  'taint  the  way  with  you, 
But  you  know  some  fellers  do. 
Spoils  a  girl  to  let  her  know 
'At  you  talk  about  her  so. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  123 

Don't  you  know  her,  her  name's  Liz, 
Nicest  girl  in  town  she  is. 
Party,  ah,  git  out,  you  gilly — 
Liz  'ud  purt  'nigh  knock  you  silly. 
Y 'ought  'o  see  her  when  she's  dressed 
All  up  in  her  Sunday  best, 
All  the  fellers  nudgin'  me, 
An'  a  whisperin',  gemunee  ! 
Betcher  life  'at  I  feel  proud 
When  she  passes  by  the  crowd. 
'T's  kinder  nice  to  be  a-goin' 
With  a  girl  'at  makes  some  showin' — 
One  you  know  'at  hain't  no  snide, 
Makes  you  feel  so  satisfied. 
An'  I'll  tell  you  she's  a  trump, 
Never  even  seen  her  jump 
Like  some  silly  girls  'ud  do, 
When  I'd  hide  and  holler  "  Boo  !" 
She'd  jest  laff  an'  say  "  Git  out, 
What  you  hollerin'  about !" 
When  some  girls  'ud  have  a  fit 
That  'un  don't  git  skeered  a  bit, 
Never  makes  a  bit  o'  row 
When  she  sees  a  worm  er  cow. 
Them  kind's  few  an'  far  between  ; 
Bravest  girl  I  ever  seen. 
Tell  you  'nuther  thing  she'll  do, 
Mebbe  you  won't  think  it's  true, 
But  if  she's  jest  got  a  dime 
She'll  go  halvers  ever'  time. 


124  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Ah,  you  goose,  you  needn't  laff ; 
That's  the  kinder  girl  to  have. 
If  you  knowed  her  like  I  do, 
Guess  you'd  kinder  like  her  too. 
Tell  you  somep'n  if  you'll  swear 
You  won't  tell  it  anywhere. 
Oh,  you  got  to  cross  yer  heart 
Earnest,  truly,  'fore  I  start. 
Well,  one  day  I  kissed  her  cheek  ; 
Gee,  but  I  felt  cheap  an'  weak, 
'Cause  at  first  she  kinder  flared, 
'N'  gracious  goodness  !  I  was  scared 
But  I  needn't  been,  fer  la ! 
Why,  she  never  told  her  ma. 
That's  what  I  call  grit,  don't  you  ? 
Sich  a  girl's  worth  stickin'  to. 


Clfter  a  Visit. 

I  be'n  down  in  ole  Kentucky 

Fur  a  week  er  two,  an'  say, 
'Twuz  ez  hard  ez  breakin'  oxen 

Fur  to  tear  myse'f  away. 
Allus  argerin'  'bout  fren'ship 

An'  yer  hospitality — 
Y'ain't  no  right  to  talk  about  it 

Tel]  you  be'n  down  there  to  see. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  125 

See  jest  how  they  give  you  welcome 

To  the  best  that's  in  the  land, 
Feel  the  sort  o'grip  they  give  you 

When  they  take  you  by  the  hand. 
Hear  'em  say,  "  We're  glad  to  have  you, 

Better  stay  a  week  er  two  ;  " 
An'  the  way  they  treat  you  makes  you 

Feel  that  ev'ry  word  is  true. 

Feed  you  tell  you  hear  the  buttons 

Crackin'  on  your  Sunday  vest ; 
Haul  you  roun'  to  see  the  wonders 

Tell  you  have  to  cry  for  rest. 
Drink  yer  health  an'  pet  an'  praise  you 

Tell  you  git  to  feel  ez  great 
Ez  the  Sheriff  o'  the  county 

Er  the  Gov'ner  o'  the  State. 

Wife,  she  sez  I  must  be  crazy 

'Cause  I  go  on  so,  an'  Nelse 
He  'lows,   "  Goodness  gracious  !  daddy, 

Cain't  you  talk  about  nuthin'  else  ?" 
Well,  pleg-gone  it,  I'm  jes  tickled, 

Bein'  tickled  ain't  no  sin  ; 
I've  b'en  down  in  ole  Kentucky 

An'  I  want  o'  go  ag'in. 


126  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Cfye  ZHabe  to  (Drber  Smile. 

When  a  woman  looks  up  at  you  with  a  twist  about  her 

eyes, 
And  her  brows  are  half  uplifted  in   a  nicely  feigned 

surprise 
As  you  breathe  some  pretty  sentence,  though  she  hates 

you  all  the  while, 
She  is  very  apt  to  stun  you  with  a  made  to  order  smile. 

It's  a  subtle  combination  of  a  sneer  and  a  caress, 
With  a  dash  of  warmth  thrown  in   it  to  relieve  its 

iciness, 
And  she  greets  you  when  she  meets  you  with  that  look 

as  if  a  file 
Had  been  used  to  fix  and  fashion  out  that  made  to 

order  smile. 

I  confess  that  I'm  eccentric  and  am  not  a  woman's 

man, 
For  they  seem  to  be  constructed  on  the  bunko  fakir 

plan, 
And  it  somehow  sets  me  thinking  that  her  heart  is  full 

of  guile 
When  a  Avoman  looks  up  at  me  with  a  made  to  order 

smile. 

Now,  all  maidens,  young  and  aged,  hear  the  lesson  I 

would  teach — 
Ye  who  meet  us  in  the  ballroom,  ye  who  meet  us  at 

the  beach — 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  127 

Pray  consent  to  try  and  charm  us  by  some  other  sort 

of  wile 
And  relieve  us  from  the  burden  of  that  made  to  order 

smile. 


(Sroimng  (5ray. 

Hello,  ole  man,  you're  a  gittin'  gray, 

An'  it  beats  ole  Ned  to  see  the  way 

'At  the  crow's  feet  's  a-getherin'  aroun'  yore  eyes  ; 

Tho1  it  oughtn't  to  cause  me  no  surprise, 

Fur  there's  many  a  sun  'at  you've  seen  rise 

An'  many  a  one  you've  seen  go  down 

Since  yore  step  was  light  an'  yore  hair  was  brown, 

An'  storms  an'  snows  have  had  their  way — 

Hello,  ole  man,  you're  a-gittin'  gray. 

Hello,  ole  man,  you're  a-gittin'  gray, 

An'  the  youthful  pranks  'at  you  ust  to  play 

Are  dreams  of  a  far  past  long  ago 

That  lie  in  a  heart  where  the  fires  burn  low — 

That  has  lost  the  flame  tho'  it  kept  the  glow, 

An'  spite  of  drivin'  snow  an'  storm, 

Beats  bravely  on  forever  warm. 

December  holds  the  place  of  May — 

Hello,  ole  man,  you're  a-gittin'  gray. 

Hello,  ole  man,  you're  a-gittin'  gray — 

Who  cares  what  the  carpin'  youngsters  say  ? 


128  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

For,  after  all,  when  the  tale  is  told, 
Love  proves  if  a  man  be  young  or  old  ! 
Age  cannot  make  the  heart  grow  cold 
When  it  does  the  will  of  an  honest  mind  ; 
When  it  beats  with  love  for  all  mankind  ; 
An'  the  night  but  leads  to  a  fairer  day — 
Hello,  ole  man,  you're  a-gittin'  gray  ! 


Signs  of  tfye  tEtmes. 

Air  a  gittiir  cool  an'  coolah, 

Frost  a  comin'  in  the  night, 
Hicka'  nuts  an'  wa'nuts  fallin',   ' 

Possum  keepin'  out  o'  sight. 
Tu'key  struttin'  in  the  ba'nya'd, 

Nary  step  so  proud  ez  his  ; 
Keep  on  struttin',  Mistah  Tu'key, 

Yo'  do'  know  whut  time  it  is. 

Cidah  press  commence  a  squeakin' 

Eatin'  apples  sto'ed  away, 
Chillin'  swa'min'  'roun'  lak  ho'nets, 

Huntin'  aigs  ermung  de  hay. 
Mistah  Tu'key  keep  on  gobblin' 

At  the  geese  a  flyin'  souf, 
Umph  dat  bird  do'  know  what's  comin' 

Ef  he  did  he'd  shet  his  mouf. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  129 

Pumpkin  gittin'  good  an  yallah 

Make  me  open  up  my  eyes  ; 
Seems  lak  its  a  lookin'  at  me 

Jes'  a  la'in  dah  sayin   "pies." 
Tu'key  gobbler  gwine  '  roun'  blowin', 

Gwine  '  roun '  gibbin'  his  sass  an'  slack; 
Keep  on  talkin'  Mistah  Tu'key, 

You  ain't  seed  no  almanac. 

Fa'mer  walkin'  th'oo  de  ba'nya'd 

Seein  how  things  is  cornin'  on, 
Sees  ef  all  de  fowls  is  fatt'nin' — 

Good  times  comin'  sho's  you  bo'n. 
Heahs  dat  tu'key  gobbler  braggtn' 

Den  his  face  break  in  a  smile — 
Nebbah  min'  ^ou  sassy  rascal, 

He's  gwine  nab  you  after  while. 

Choppin'  suet  in  de  kitchen, 

Stonin'  raisins  in  de  hall, 
Beef  a  cookin'  fu'  de  mince  meat, 

Spices  groun' — I  smell  'em  all. 
Look  heah,  Tu'key,  stop  dat  gobblin', 

You  ain'  lamed  de  sense  ob  feah, 
You  ol'  fool  yo'  naik's  in  dangah, 

Do'  you  know  Thanksgibbin's  heah  ? 


130  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 


Delinquent. 


Goo'by,  Jinks,  I  got  to  hump, 
Got  to  mek  dis  pony  jump  ; 
See  dat  sun  a-goin'  down 
'N'  me  a  foolin'  hyeah  in  town  ! 
Git  up,  Suke — go  long. 

Guess  Mirandy  '11  think  I'se  tight, 
Me  not  home  an'  comin'  on  night. 
What's  dat  stan'in'  by  de  fence  ? 
Pshaw  !  why  don't  I  lu'n  some  sense  ? 
Git  up,  Suke — go  long. 

Guess  I  spent  down  dar  at  Jinks's 
Mos'  a  dollah  fur  de  drinks. 
Bless  yo'r  soul,  you  see  dat  star  ? 
Lawd,  but  won't  Mirandy  rar  ? 
Git  up,  Suke — go  long. 

Went  dis  mawnin',  hyeah  it's  night, 
Dar's  de  cabin  dar  in  sight. 
Who's  dat  stan'in'  in  de  do'  ? 
Dat  must  be  Mirandy,  sho', 
Git  up,  Suke — go  long. 

Got  de  close-stick  in  huh|han', 
Dat  look  funny,  goodness  Ian', 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  131 

Sakes  alibe,  but  she  look  glum  ! 
Hyeah,  Mirandy,  hyeah  I  come ! 

Git  up,  Suke — go  long. 

Ef  't  hadn't  a  be'n  fur  you,  you  slow  ole  fool,  I'd 
a'  be'n  home  long  fo'  now. 

Deacon  3ones'  (Bnepance. 

I've  been  watchin'  of  'em,  parson, 

An'  I'm  sorry  fur  to  say 
'At  my  mind  is  not  contented 

With  the  loose  an'  keerless  way 
'At  the  young  folks  treat  the  music  ; 

'Tain't  the  proper  sort  o'  choir, 
Then  I  don't  believe  in  Christuns 

A-singin'  hymns  for  hire. 

But  I  never  would  'a'  murmured 

An'  the  matter  might  'a'  gone 
Ef  it  wasn't  fur  the  antics 

'At  I've  seen  'em  kerry  on  ; 
So  I  thought  it  was  my  dooty 

Fur  to  come  to  you  an'  ask 
Ef  you  wouldn't  sort  o'  gently 

Take  them  singin'  folks  to  task. 

Fust,  the  music  they've  be'n  singin' 

Will  disgrace  us  very  soon, 
It's  a  cross  between  a  opry 

An'  a  ol'  cotillion  tune. 


132  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

With  its  dashes  an'  its  quavers 
An'  its  hifalutin  style — 

Why,  it  sets  my  head  to  swimmin' 
When  I'm  comin'  down  the  aisle. 

Now  it  might  be  almost  decent 

Ef  it  wasn't  fur  the  way 
'At  they  git  up  there  an'  sing  it, 

Hey  dum  diddle  loud  and  gay. 
Why,  it  shames  the  name  o'  sacred 

In  its  brazen  worldliness, 
An'  they've  even  got  "  01'  Hundred  " 

In  a  bold,  new-fangled  dress. 

You'll  excuse  me,  Mr.  Parson, 

Ef  I  seem  a  little  sore  ; 
But  I've  sung  the  songs  of  Isr'el 

For  three-score  years  an'  more, 
An'  it  sort  o'  hurts  rny  feelin's 

Fur  to  see  'em  put  away 
Fur  these  harum-scarum  ditties 

'At  is  capturin'  the  day. 

There's  anuther  little  happ'nin' 

'At  I'll  mention  while  I'm  here, 
Jes'  to  show  'at  my  objections 

All  is  offered  sound  and  clear. 
It  was  one  day  they  was  singin' 

An'  was  doin'  well  enough — 
Singin'  good  as  people  could  sing 

Sich  an  awful  mess  o'  stuff — 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  133 

When  the  choir  give  a  holler, 

An'  the  organ  give  a  groan, 
An'  they  left  one  weak- voiced  feller 

A-singin'  there  alone ! 
But  he  stuck  right  to  the  music, 

Tho'  'twas  tryin'  as  could  be  ; 
An'  when  I  tried  to  help  him, 

Why,  the  hull  church  scowled  at  me. 

You  say  that's  so-low  singin', 

Well  I  pray  the  Lord  that  I 
G rowed  up  when  folks  was  willin' 

To  sing  their  hymns  so  high. 
Why,  we  never  had  sich  doin's 

In  the  good  ol'  Bethel  days, 
When  the  folks  was  all  contented 

With  the  simple  songs  of  praise. 

Now  I  may  have  spoke  too  open, 

But  'twas  too  hard  to  keep  still, 
An'  I  hope  you'll  tell  the  singers 

'At  I  bear  'em  no  ill-will. 
'At  they  all  may  git  to  glory 

Is  my  wish  an'  my  desire, 
But  they'll  need  some  extry  trainin' 

'Fore  they  jine  the  heavenly  choir. 


134  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 


Cfye  Dilettante:  Cl  XHobern  Cype. 

He  scribbles  some  in  prose  and  verse, 
And  now  and  then  he  prints  it  ; 

He  paints  a  little  —  gathers  some 
Of  Nature's  gold  and  mints  it. 

He  plays  a  little,  sings  a  song, 

Acts  tragic  roles,  or  funny  ; 
He  does,  because  his  love  is  strong, 

But  not,  oh,  not  for  money  ! 

He  studies  almost  everything 

From  social  art  to  science  ; 
A  thirsty  mind,  a  flowing  spring, 

Demand  and  swift  compliance. 

He  looms  above  the  sordid  crowd  — 
At  least  through  friendly  lenses  ; 

While  his  mamma  looks  pleased  and  proud, 
And  kindly  pays  expenses. 


'Twas  three  an'  thirty  year  ago 
When  I  wuz  ruther  young,  you  know, 
I  hed  my  last  an'  only  fight 
About  a  gal  one  summer  night. 
'Twas  me  an'  Zekel  Johnson  ;  Zeke 
'N  me  'd  be'n  spattin'  'bout  a  week  ; 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  135 

Each  on  us  tryin'  his  best  to  show 
That  he  was  Liza  Joneses  beau. 
We  couldn't  neither  prove  the  thing, 
Fur  she  wuz  fur  too  sharp  to  fling 
One  over  fur  the  other  one 
An'  by  so  doin'  stop  the  fun. 
Thet  we  chaps  didn't  hev  the  sense 
To  see  she  got  at  our  expense, 
But  that's  the  way  a  feller  does, 
Fur  boys  is  fools  an'  allus  wuz. 
An'  when  they's  females  in  the  game 
I  reckon  men's  about  the  same. 
Well,  Zeke  an'  me  went  on  that  way 
An'  fussed  an'  quarrelled  day  by  day  ; 
While  Liza,  mindin'  not  the  fuss, 
Jes'  kep'  a-goin'  with  both  on  us, 
Tell  we  pore  chaps,  that's  Zeke  an'  me, 
Wuz  jes'  plum  mad  with  jealousy. 
Well,  fur  a  time  we  kep'  our  places, 
An'  only  showed  by  frownin'  faces 
An'  looks  'at  well  our  meanin'  boded 
How  full  o'  fight  we  both  was  loaded. 
At  last  it  come,  the  thing  broke  out, 
An'  this  is  how  it  come  about. 
One  night  ('twas  fair,  you'll  all  agree), 
I  got  Eliza's  company, 
An'  leavin'  Zekel  in  the  lurch, 
Went  trottin'  off  with  her  to  church. 
An'  jes'  as  we  hed  took  our  seat 
(Eliza  lookin'  fair  an'  sweet), 


136  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Why,  I  jest  couldn't  help  but  grin 

When  Zekel  come  a-bounein'  in 

As  furious  as  the  law  allows. 

He'd  jest  be'n  up  to  Liza's  house, 

To  find  her  gone,  then  come  to  church 

To  have  this  end  put  to  his  search. 

I  guess  I  laffed  that  meetin'  thro' 

An'  not  a  mortal  word  I  knew, 

Of  what  the  preacher  preached  or  read 

Er  what  the  choir  sung  er  said. 

Fur  every  time  I'd  turn  my  head 

I  couldn't  skeercely  help  but  see 

'At  Zekel  had  his  eye  on  me. 

An'  he  'ud  sort  o'  turn  an'  twist 

An'  grind  his  teeth  an'  shake  his  fist. 

I  laughed,  fur  la  !  the  hull  church  seen  us, 

An'  knowed  that  suthin'  was  between  us. 

Well,  meetin'  out,  we  started  hum, 

I  sorter  feelin'  what  would  come. 

We'd  jest  got  out,  when  up  stepped  Zeke, 

An'  said,  "  Scuse  me,  I'd  like  to  speak 

To  you  a  minute."     "  Cert,"  says  I — 

A-nudgin'  Liza  on  the  sly 

An'  laughin'  in  my  sleeve  with  glee, 

I  asked  her,  please,  to  pardon  me. 

We  walked  away  a  step  er  two, 

Jest  to  git  out  o'  Liza's  view, 

An'  then  Zeke  said,  "  I  want  to  know 

Ef  you  think  you're  Eliza's  beau. 

An'  'at  I'm  goin'  to  let  her  go 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  137 

Hum  with  sich  a  chap  as  you  ?  " 

An'  I  said  bold,  "  You  bet  I  do." 

Then  Zekel,  sneerin',  said  'at  he 

Didn't  want  to  hender  me. 

But  then  he  'lowed  the  gal  wuz  his 

An'  'at  he  guessed  he  knowed  his  biz, 

An'  wasn't  feared  o'  all  my  kin 

With  all  my  friends  an'  chums  throwed  in. 

Some  other  things  he  mentioned  there 

That  no  born  man  could  no  ways  bear 

Er  think  o'  ca'mly  tryin'  to  stan' 

Ef  Zeke  hed  be'n  the  bigges'  man 

In  town,  an'  not  the  leanest  runt 

'At  time  an'  labor  ever  stunt. 

An'  so  I  let  my  fist  go  "  bim," 

I  thought  I'd  mos'  nigh  finished  him. 

But  Zekel  didn't  take  it  so. 

He  jest  ducked  down  an'  dodged  my  blow 

An'  then  come  back  at  me  so  hard, 

I  guess  I  must '  a '  hurt  the  yard, 

Er  spile't  the  grass  plot  where  I  fell, 

An'  sakes  alive  it  hurt  me  ;  well 

It  wouldn't  be'n  so  bad,  you  see, 

But  he  jest  kep'  a-hittin'  me. 

An'  I  hit  back  an'  kicked  an'  pawed, 

But  't  seemed  'twas  mostly  air  I  clawed, 

While  Zekel  used  his  science  well 

A-rnakin'  every  motion  tell. 

He  punched  an'  hit,  why,  goodness  lands, 

Seemed  like  he  had  a  dozen  hands. 


138  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Well,  afterwhile  they  stopped  the  fuss, 

An'  someone  kindly  parted  us. 

All  beat  an'  cuffed  an'  clawed  an'  scratched, 

An'  needin'  both  our  faces  patched, 

Each  started  home  a  different  way  ; 

An'  what  o'  Lizy,  do  you  say, 

Why,  Liza — little  humbug — dern  her, 

Why,  she'd  gone  home  with  Hiram  Turner. 


IDfyen  ZHaltnby  Sings. 

G'way  an'  quit  dat  noise,  Miss  Lucy — 

Put  dat  music  book  away  ; 
What's  de  use  to  keep  on  try  in'  ? 

Ef  you  practice  twell  you're  gray, 
You  cain't  sta't  no  notes  a-flyin' 

Like  de  ones  dat  rants  and  rings 
F'om  de  kitchen  to  de  big  woods 

When  Melindy  sings. 

You  ain't  got  de  nachel  o'gans 

Fu'  to  make  de  soun'  come  right, 
You  ain't  got  de  tu'ns  an'  twistin's 

Fu'  to  make  it  sweet  an'  light. 
Tell  you  one  thing  now,  Miss  Lucy, 

An'  I'm  tellin'  you  fu'  true, 
When  hit  comes  to  raal  right  singin', 

'Tain't  no  easy  thing  to  do. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  139 

Easy  'nough  fu'  folks  to  hollah, 

Lookin'  at  de  lines  an'  dots. 
When  dey  ain't  no  one  kin  sence  it, 

An'  de  chune  comes  in  in  spots ; 
But  fu'  real  melojous  music, 

Dat  jes'  strikes  yo'  hawt  and  clings, 
Jes'  you  stan'  an'  listen  wif  me, 

When  Malindy  sings. 

Ain't  you  nevah  heerd  Malindy  ? 

Blessed  soul,  take  up  de  cross  ! 
Look  heah,  ain't  you  jokin',  honey? 

Well,  you  don't  know  what  you  los1. 
Y'ought  to  heah  dat  gal  a-wa'blin', 

Robins,  la'ks  an'  all  dem  things, 
Heish  dey  moufs  an'  hides  dey  faces 

When  Malindy  sings. 

Fiddlin'  man,  jes'  stop  his  fiddlin', 

Lay  his  fiddle  on  de  she'f ; 
Mockin'-bird  quit  tryin'  to  whistle, 

'Cause  he  jes'  so  shamed  hisse'f. 
Folks  a-playin'  on  de  banjo, 

Draps  dey  fingahs  on  de  strings — 
Bless  yo'  soul — fu'gits  to  move  'em, 

When  Malindy  sings. 

She  jes'  spreads  huh  mouf  and  hollahs, 

"  Come  to  Jesus,"  twell  you  heah 
Sinnahs'  tremblin'  steps  and  voices, 

Timid-like  a-drawin'  neah  ; 


140  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

Den  she  tu'ns  to  "  Rock  of  Ages," 
Sinlply  to  de  cross  she  clings, 

An'  you  fin'  yo'  teahs  a  drappin', 
When  Malindy  sings. 

Who  dat  says  dat  humble  praises 

Wif  de  Master  nevah  counts  ? 
Heish  yo'  mouf,  I  heah  dat  music, 

Ez  hit  rises  up  anr  mounts — 
Floatin'  by  de  hills  an'  valleys, 

Way  above  dis  buryin'  sod, 
Ez  hit  makes  its  way  in  glory 

To  de  very  gates  of  God ! 

Oh,  hits  sweetah  dan  de  music 

Of  an  edicated  band  ; 
And  hits  dearah  dan  de  battle's 

Song  o'  triumph  in  de  Ian'. 
It  seems  holier  dan  evenin' 

When  de  solemn  chu'ch  bell  rings, 
Ez  I  sit  an'  ca'mly  listen 

While  Malindy  sings. 

Towsah,  stop  dat  ba'kin'.  heah  me ! 

Mandy,  make  dat  chile  keep  still ; 
Don't  you  heah  de  echoes  callin' 

F'om  de  valley  to  de  hill. 
Let  me  listen,  I  can  heah  it, 

Th'oo  de  bresh  of  angel's  wings, 
Sof  an'  sweet,  "  Swing  Low,  Sweet  Chariot,' 

Ez  Malindy  sings. 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS  141 


Ctn 


Ther'  ain't  no  use  in  all  this  strife, 

An'  hurryin',  pell-mell,  right  thro'  life. 

I  don't  believe  in  goin'  too  fast 

To  see  what  kind  o'  road  you've  passed. 

It  ain't  no  mortal  kind  o'  good 

'N'  I  wouldn't  hurry  ef  I  could. 

I  like  to  jest  go  joggin'  'long, 

To  limber  up  my  soul  with  song  ; 

To  stop  awhile  'n'  chat  the  men, 

'N'  drink  some  cider  now  an'  then. 

Do'  want  no  boss  a  standin'  by 

To  see  me  work  ;  I  allus  try 

To  do  my  dooty  right  straight  up, 

An'  earn  what  fills  my  plate  an'  cup. 

An'  ez  fur  boss,  I'll  be  my  own, 

I  like  to  jest  be  let  alone, 

To  plow  my  strip  an'  tend  my  bees, 

An'  do  jest  like  I  doggoned  please. 

My  head's  all  right,  an'  my  heart's  meller, 

But  I'm  a  easy-goin'  feller. 


Speaking  o'  Cfyrtstmus. 

Breezes  blowin'  middlin'  brisk, 
Snow-flakes  thro'  the  air  a-whisk, 
Fallin'  kind  o'  soft  an'  light, 
Not  enough  to  make  things  white, 


142  MAJORS    AND    MINORS. 

But  jest  sorter  siftin'  down 
So's  to  cover  up  the  brown 
Of  the  dark  world's  rugged  ways 
'N.make  things  look  like  holidays. 
Not  smoothed  over,  but  jest  specked, 
Sorter  strainin'  for  effect, 
An'  not  quite  a-gittin'  through 
What  it  started  in  to  do. 
Mercy  sakes  !  it  does  seem  queer 
Christmas  day  is  most  nigh  here. 
Somehow  it  don't  seem  to  me 
Christmas  like  it  ust  to  be. 
Christmas  with  its  ice  an'  snow, 
Christmas  of  the  long  ago. 
You  could  feel  its  stir  an'  hum 
Weeks  an'  weeks  before  it  come  ; 
Somethin'  in  the  atmosphere 
Told  you  when  the  day  was  near, 
Didn't  need  no  almanacs  ; 
That  was  one  o'  Nature's  fac's. 
Every  cottage  decked  out  gay — 
Cedar  wreaths  an'  holly  spray — 
An'  the  stores,  how  they  were  drest, 
Tinsel  till  you  couldn't  rest ; 
Every  winder  fixed  up  pat, 
Candy  canes,  an'  things  like  that ; 
Noah's  arks,  an'  guns,  an'  dolls, 
An'  all  kinds  o'  fol-de-rols. 
Then  with  frosty  bells  a-chime, 
Slidin'  down  the  hills  o'  time, 


MAJORS    AND    MINORS.  143 

Right  amidst  the  fun  an'  din 
Christmas  comes  a-bustlin'  in, 
Raised  his  cheery  voice  to  call 
Out  a  welcome  to  us  all. 
Hale  and  hearty,  strong  an'  bluff, 
That  was  Christmas,  sure  enough. 
Snow  knee  deep  an'  coastin'  fine, 
Frozen  mill-ponds  all  ashine, 
Seemin' jest  to  lay  in  wait, 
Beggin'  you  to  come  an'  skate. 
An'  you'd  git  your  gal  an'  go 
Stum  pin'  cheerily  thro'  the  snow, 
Feelin'  pleased  an'  skeert  an'  warm 
'Cause  she's  got  a-holt  yore  arm. 
An'  when  Christmas  come,  why,  we 
Spent  the  whole  glad  day  in  glee, 
Havin'  fun  an'  feastin'  high 
An'  some  courtin'  on  the  sly. 
Burstin'  in  some  neighbor's  door 
An'  then  suddenly,  before 
He  could  give  his  voice  a  lift, 
Yellin'  at  him,  "  Chrismus  gift." 
Now  sich  things  are  never  heard, 
"  Merry  Chris'mus"  is  the  word. 
But  it's  only  change  o'  name 
An'  means  givin'  jest  the  same. 
There's  too  many  new-styled  ways 
Now  about  the  holidays. 
I'd  jest  like  once  more  to  see 
Christmas  like  she  ust  to  be ! 


Table  of  Contents. 


MAJORS  AND  MINORS. 


PAOE. 


After  the  Quarrel,                     -  -            63 

Alice,  .      80 

Ballad,  .            .            $0 

Beyond  the  Years,  I  -             -             -      35 

"      II  35 

"      III      -  -      36 

Border  Ballad,  A  57 

By  the  Stream,  .             _      43 

Change  Has  Come,  The  -                          19 

Changing  Time,      -  -                          -      31 

Columbian  Ode,  I                      -  -             -             27 

11      II  -                                 28 

"      HI     -  28 

Colored  Soldiers,  The  -      38 

Comparison,     -  43 

Conscience  and  Remorse,  -  -            -            .44 

Corn  Song,  A  .            58 

Creed  and  Not  a  Creed,  A  -            -            -      34 

Dawn,  -  es 

Dead,  .             -      41 

Dirge,  ------  36 


146  TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 

PAtiE. 

Disappointed,  -      85 

Drowsy  Day,  A  25 
Ere  Sleep  Comes  Down  to  Soothe  the  Weary  Eyes,    05 

Frederick  Douglass,     -  17 

Good  Night,  79 

He  Had  His  Dream,  33 

How  Shall  I  Woo  Thee,  72 

Hymn,  77 

If,  -  58 

If  I  Could  But  Forget,  75 

Invitation  to  Love,  -      76 

lone — Part  I  7 

"     II  -      10 

"     III  12 

Lesson,  The  -      67 

Life,      -  31 

Lover  and  The  Moon,  The  -      45 

Lyric,  A  69 

Madrigal,  A  20 

Master-Player,  The  62 

Meadow  Lark,  The  2<) 

Memory  of  Mary  Young,  To  the  41 
Mystery,  A 

Nature  and  Art,  1  48 

"         "       "     II  -      48 

Not  They  Who  Soar,    -  62 

Ode  for  Memorial  Day.      -  -      50 

Ode  to  Ethiopia,  23 

Old,  -      71 

One  Life,           -  73 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS.  147 

PAGE. 

Passion  and  Love,  -      56 

Phyllis,  70 

Poet  and  His  Song,  The     -  21 

Prayer,  A  76 

Premonition,  -      49 

Preparation,     -  84 

Promise,     -  -      83 

Retort,  84 

Retrospection,  -      60 

Riding  to  Town,  78 
Right's  Security.    -                                                 '   -      70 

Rising  of  the  Storm,  The  51 

Seedling,  The  30 

Secret,  The  33 

Ships  That  Pass  in  the  Night,  47 

Song,  The  85 

Song,  -      73 

Sparrow,  The    -  26 

Summer's  Night,  A  72 

Starry  Night,  A  67 

Sunset,       -  "27 

Unexpressed,    -  64 

We  Wear  the  Mask,  21 

Why  Fades  a  Dream,  -  32 

Wind  and  the  Sea,  The            -                          -  53 


148                                    TABLE    OF  CONTENTS. 

HUMOR  AND  DIALECT. 

PAGE. 

Accountability,  120 

After  a  Visit,  -      124 

Ante-Bellum  Sermon,  An  102 

Banjo  Song,  A      -  105 

Corn-Stalk  Fiddle,  The  116 

Curtain,    -  -      118 

Deacon  Jones'  Grievance,  131 

Delinquent,  The  .                          -      130 

Deserted  Plantation,  The  118 

Dilettante,  The     -  -      134 

Easy-Goin'  Feller,  An  141 

Growing  Gray,  -      127 

Lonesome,      -  113 

Made  To  Order  Smile,  The  126 

Negro  Love  Song,  A  110 

No  Confidence,     -  121 

OF  Tunes,  The  107 

Party,  The  89 

Rivals,  The     -  134 

Signs  of  the  Times,  -      128 

Speakin'  o'  Christmas,  141 

Spellin'  Bee,  95 

When  de  Co'n  Pone's  Hot,  -                                      111 

When  Malindy  Sings,       -  138 

Wooing,  The               -  -         ,   -            -            115 


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